


Falling Slowly

by CantStopTheMuses



Category: Downton Abbey, Matthew Crawley Lives - Fandom, Tom Branson - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantStopTheMuses/pseuds/CantStopTheMuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost 3 years after Sybil's death Tom still isn't quite recovered. He dotes on his daughter and goes through the motions of life at Downton. Kate Byrne is dealing with her own sad past the best way she knows how, by keeping it all a secret. When the two meet they are instantly drawn to one another. Will they be able to move on together or will their pasts hold them back?</p><p>This story originally appeared on FF.net and since I have an Ao3 now, I'll be slowly moving it over. It was originally started before Season 4 premiered, so a few things are different ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

March 1923

"I like this part right here, "Like a Phoenix rising from the black ashes, the world has found its way to begin anew. We are no longer an innocent society, but we carry the memories of the war with us daily. They are lessons, lessons we must utilize for the future of our world." "Michael Gregson sat back and smiled. "This is the material of an award winning journalist."

I immediately felt the weight that had been lingering on my chest pull away as he said that. "I was so afraid you would hate it."

"Kate, your extrasensory perception skills need to be polished if you thought that. This is amazing. Viewing the war as a brutal lesson in politics and communication." He slapped a hand on the stacked pages in front of him, "Fine stuff!"

Beaming, I thanked him. I had agonized for days on this piece. Michael Gregson, the editor of The Chronicle had hired me not even a month before and I had been more than eager to impress him. Few papers had been willing to give me the time of day when I had first come to London, even with a degree in journalism in my pocket. He was the one who had snatched me up, declaring the sex of a writer didn't matter to him just as long as their message was clear. His thinking was rare and wonderful.

We discussed a few bits of editing before he released me from his office, calling for his secretary to send my papers to the printers. I gathered my jacket from the hook by the door and slipped it on as I walked out the door. I swept a lock of dark hair that had strayed from my chignon back into its place as I walked through the busy Chronicle office. As I reached the waiting room I found a surprise sitting in one of the polished wooden chairs.

"Edith, darling, what are you doing here?"

Lady Edith Crawley looked up and gave me a kind smile. "Kate, I didn't think I'd see you today." She rose and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Lady Edith was just that in fact, a Lady. Her father was an Earl, but she had made a name for herself by becoming a well-respected writer for the Chronicle. We were two of very few women who worked for the paper and had bonded because of it. It was rather amusing to me at times, her of English nobility and me, the daughter of an Irish banker having such a close friendship.

"I am glad I've found you though. Do you have any plans for the Easter holiday?"

I shook my head, "Sitting in my flat reading I suppose, maybe going to church."

"Well I would like to invite you to Downton then. I thought about it on the ride down and you would be more than welcome."

"Oh Edith…"

"I forbid you to say No. It will be very quiet, the family and some close friends. You were by yourself for Christmas and I won't let you spend another holiday alone. If you're worried about it, there's a Catholic church about an hour away. My brother-in-law would surely take you if you wanted."

"That would be lovely, I just…"

"I have forbid it, Kathleen Byrne. You cannot say No."

I sighed. I wasn't hesitant because of church, nor was it because I would be around people that were basically strangers. It was…well being surrounded by a family, even one that wasn't my own, brought back painful memories that I would have much rather left buried. Edith was so kind to think of me and the expression on her face presently was one I had no chance to argue with. Perhaps it was time to let go of the past and move on…

"I shall say yes then." I smiled.

"Wonderful. I'll make all of the arrangements this afternoon."

She chatted on about the preparations, even suggesting a shopping trip beforehand, but as I smiled in acknowledgement, feigning excitement, my mind went elsewhere. I prayed I made it through Easter without losing my composure. Three years since and the holidays, a time for love and family, hadn't gotten any easier. God, please let this one be different.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

None of Edith's descriptions of Downton could have prepared me for the grandeur of the house that I now found myself in. With its high ceilings, large foyer and decorations worthy of Buckingham Palace I found myself in a distant awe of it all. Edith was shockingly comfortable in the surroundings. She spoke to the butler and footmen with a pleasant familiarity, introducing them to me and ensuring they knew to accommodate me and my wishes wherever possible. I felt touched...and a bit overwhelmed.

"I've asked Grace to help you along while you're here, Kate." Edith told me as the great doors to the front closed. A pretty blonde hair girl appeared from out of nowhere and dipped her head to me.

"I really can manage on my own."

"Nonsense. We all deserve a little pampering now and then. Barrow…" she turned to the butler who had greeted us upon our arrival. He was perhaps only a few years old than the two of us, but bowed to Edith. "I assume Mama and Papa are at Granny's?"

"Yes, Lady Edith."

"And Mary and Matthew?"

"Yes, Mr. Carson expects them home by tea time."

Edith nodded, her strawberry blonde curls moving slightly. Barrow gave a formal, curt bow and followed the rest of the footman and Grace who had disappeared around the corner. "Come along," she said, looping an arm through mine, "Let's get changed and I shall give you a tour." She led me out of the front hall and towards an impressively grand staircase. When we reached the top landing I was led to the right of the corridor and down four or five doors to the room that had been readied for me.

The room smelled of lemon wax and wildflowers. There was a grand four poster bed in the center and a bureau and vanity of matching oak near the large window that gleamed freshly cleaned. I walked through the room, noting that my quaint little flat could probably fit in the room with space to spare. Going to the window I saw the beautiful view it produced of the vast grounds of the estate. Emerald green grass for miles with a sporadic tree to offer shade from the bright sun. It was beautiful, I thought, my fingers absently stroking the tassel of the drapes that framed the window.

"A far cry from London, isn't it?" Edith spoke up beside me

I smiled, "Very. It reminds me of home."

"Sutton?" she guessed, answering correctly the little town that sat on the outskirt of Dublin that I called home.

"You remembered." I flash a grin at her and she chuckled.

"You and Tom should find something to talk about then. He's from Dublin, though I'm not sure where exactly."

"Your brother-in-law?"

"Yes and he also the manager of the estate." Forgetting her plans to change she sat down at the bench at the vanity. "In the beginning he was actually our chauffer." I saw her pause for a moment. "You do remember what I told you about my sister."

"Yes, of course." It wasn't possible for me to forget a story as sad as that one.

She nodded. "After Sybil…well it worked out for everyone involved. We have our Sybbie close by," she referred to her niece, "and he seems to have found his place managing things. Matthew and Papa have nothing but great things to say regarding his work and the estate has flourished."

"All of these names, I feel like I'm going to forget someone." I sat on the bed in mocked exhaustion, attempting to lighten the mood "There's Tom, the former chauffer now manager, his daughter...how old is she?"

"Almost three."

"Your cousin Rose. Then Matthew, your sister Mary's husband and their son…"

"Robbie, after Papa. He was a year old in September."

"Right, and then your parents, Lord and Lady Grantham oh and your grandmother…what do I call her?"

"Queen Grantham should do. Granny is our acknowledged Sovereign, its best that you follow our lead and think the same." she laughed.

"Right." I returned with my own laughter.

There was a knock on the opened door then that pulled us away from our laughter. It was Grace who had come to unpack the luggage that had been swiftly brought up by the footman. She began to pull out the new dresses that I bought in London and put them in the wardrobe. Edith had taken great care in helping me shop. Admittedly it wasn't something I had done often, but I agreed with her reasoning for the new frocks. Downton was grand and so were the people who lived in it. It was only polite of me to play the part while I was a guest in their home.

Edith went to the wardrobe after Grace had gone back for more clothes and pulled a French blue a gray dress from the hanger. It was one of my new ones, dropped waist with cropped sleeves. She laid it out on the bed. "Change into this one and…" she peered back into the wardrobe grabbing a cream silk one out. It was rather beautiful, beaded in silver and gold, with a fringe falling below the hem. "This one for dinner tonight."

"Anything else, your majesty?" I teased feeling rather like a little girl's doll.

She cut me a smile and then looked back at Grace. "See to them when you get a moment, Grace."

Grace nodded, "Yes, milady."

Saying she would meet me in the front hall in fifteen minute, Edith left the room closing the door gently behind her. I helped Grace finish unpacking my suitcases which I gathered made her uncomfortable, but I couldn't sit there and feel useless. After we finished I changed into the blue dress and allowed Grace to fix my hair while I sat at the vanity.

My dark locks were unfashionably long. For years I had never been able to do more than give it a small trim. The memory of a loving hand running its fingers through the tresses like silk was one that I cherished. I feared that if I cut them I would lose that memory and even more of him than I already had…

"Are you alright, Miss?" Grace asked, pulling me out of the memory with a jolt.

I looked up, catching her worry glance in the reflection of the mirror. She had fashioned a pretty braided twist at the nap of my neck and I quickly adverted my attention to it.

"Yes, I'm sorry, just a bit tired."

She nodded. I couldn't tell if she believed the lie or not, but I decided it really didn't matter. In her line of work she had probably dealt with stranger people than I. Thanking her I rose from my seat and slipped a black beaded necklace over my head before walking out the door.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Edith was true to her word, giving me a detailed tour of the house. She was very informed on its history and seemed to be knowledgeable about the pieces of art inside of it. As we waved in and out of each room I found myself growing less tense about being in the great house. She explained that the family really only utilized few rooms within it and for whatever reason that made them seem a little more mortal to me.

"The family's bedrooms are all down the left wing." She explained as we came around the second story, peering over into the salon. "Nothing really to see there, unless you'd like to go to the nursery to meet the children."

"I would love to."

She led me towards the left wing of the house, explaining that though the official nursery was on the top floor of the house, the parents preferred having their children closer. I stood behind Edith as she knocked on the door to signal her presence and then opened it. A nursemaid looked up and greeted her, but not before a little girl with curls as dark as my own noticed us.

"Auntie!" she pushed herself up, her white dress nothing but ruffles and came over to Edith with arms stretched wide. Edith knelt and kissed her sweetly on the cheek.

"Darling, I missed you."

Her chubby little arms circled Edith's neck as she smiled. "Yes."

"I've brought someone for you to meet." She turned up to me, "This is my friend, Miss Kate Byrne."

Her round cheeks were dimpled, her lips rosy and her eyes a beautiful green and I found myself smiling warmly back at her. "Hello Sybbie, it's wonderful to meet you."

The little sweetheart beamed, flashing me an adorable smile that made my heart melt. "Hello." She said back and held out a waving hand to me.

Before I knew it she had wiggled down from her aunts arms and invited us both over to her blocks. From the next room I could hear the fuss of baby and Edith and I both looked up from the blocks to watch the nurse leave and return with a boy of about a year old that I assumed to be Robbie. Sybbie was smart though and noticed the sway of our attention almost immediately.

"Auntie, here." She handed her a block, "And Katie too."

Katie. No one had called me Katie in so long. My father had…and so had David.

"We have the kind of love that will never end, Katie. We are how fairy tales start…"

No! I told myself firmly and wiped away the memory, not now. I will not let this happen.

"Oh," Edith spoke up, glancing at the clock on the shelf "It's nearly one. We should go downstairs." She looked down at Sybbie and then at the nursemaid who had placed Robbie in a high chair and was preparing a bowl of food for him. "We'll take Sybbie down with us for tea."

"Yes, milady." She nodded.

"Come long, Darling. Let's go wait for Grandmamma and Grandpapa."

To my surprise, before she gave her hand to Edith the child bent down and picked up her blocks, placing them back in the basket. She looked to her nanny for approval, waiting for permission to leave the room.

"She's so well behaved." I remarked to Edith as we left the room.

"When it comes to something's," Edith replied, "She can be rather stubborn about others."

A short while after we arrived downstairs and found our way into the library I met Lord and Lady Grantham. My fears about their views of me quickly disappeared with their polite introductions and Lady Grantham's warm smiles. Edith's sister Mary and her husband Matthew quickly followed. Both were kind and though I could sense a rather snobbish exterior for Lady Mary, she was genuinely kind to me. Cousin Rose arrived not long after. She greeted me with a big smile and enthusiasm.

"Are you really a journalist?" she asked, sitting next to me. She was a very vibrant young thing, with hair that matched her personality.

"Yes, I am."

"A real one? Like you've gone to university?"

"Yes, I have. Newnham, at Cambridge."

She swooned in awe. "That's amazing. Isn't it Uncle Robert?"

"Quite, Rose. However, it's not unheard of for a woman to be educated." He took a sip of his tea.

Mary looked up, "Well it is among us here. You're a rare bird to us. I congratulate you, Kate."

"Yes," Matthew spoke up from next to her, "It's quite extraordinary. Your family must be very proud of you."

He didn't know, there was no way that he could have known that those words would be surprisingly painful to me. He didn't know it would cause that hollow feeling to appear in my soul, gaping and full of sadness. Edith knew though and before I could let the feeling overtake me she was at my side.

"Kate lost her family a few years ago." She told them quietly.

A shocked hush fell over the table. I could practically feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment. I didn't intend to for any of that to happen. The last thing I wanted was to make perfect strangers uncomfortable, especially in their own home.

"You poor dear." Lady Grantham spoke up, her voice quietly sympathetic. "How dreadful. You shouldn't be embarrassed to tell us."

"Yes," Lady Mary spoke up, "We wouldn't have thought ill of you for it."

Shaking my head I explained I didn't tell many people. "It's still rather painful."

"Of course it is," Edith comforted.

From her spot between Edith and her grandmamma, Sybbie said, "Do not be sad." It was innocent demand, but one that made the entire table smile, including myself.

Tom

Neither Robert nor Mr. Carson approved, but entering the house through the kitchens was just about the only way I could make myself walk into Downton most days. The fanfare at the door wasn't for me. At least by going through a less imposing area of the house, I built myself up to the other world the upper floors existed in. Perhaps after three years I should have been used to it, but I wasn't.

"Mr. Branson." Mr. Carson's voice caught me as I walked by his room. I reluctantly stopped and turned, taking off my hat. "The family is in the library having tea."

"It would be best if you joined them. Lady Edith's friend has arrived."

Something else I would never get used to; pulling out all of the stops for guests. "All right. Thank you, Mr. Carson."

I went towards the back stair case, nodding at one of the footman as I went by. Up the stairs and out the door I entered the hall and went towards the library. When I entered I spotted the entire group, plus one, gathered on the plush red sofas. Sybbie, who sat nestled between Cora and Edith noticed me first. She set down her glass of milk and sprang from her seat towards me.

"Da," I had her in my arms within a split moment, letting her snuggle her face into my jacket. Bless me, but I loved that girl more than life itself.

"Perfect timing," Matthew spoke up. "I was beginning to wonder how you gotten along in Ripon."

"Fine," I replied, carrying Sybbie closer. I had gone to Ripon that morning to settle some paperwork for one of the tenants on the estate per Matthew's request. "Everything is settled."

"Excellent." He answered.

"Tom," Edith pulled my attention away from Matthew, "This is my friend Kate. The one I was telling you about."

Sure enough Edith had told me about her friend. I don't remember much, just that I had imagined a middle aged woman with graying hair, what I saw then was far from that. She wasn't young, but she was nowhere near old either. Her hair was as a dark a brown as it could be without being black. Her features were as delicate as a fairy's and she smiled at me kindly as Edith introduced us.

"You're Irish," I observed her accent as she greeted me. It was soft and near melodic.

"Yes—"

"Tom, I told she was." Edith spoke up.

Kate blushed, "Yes, I am."

The urge to talk to her, to take her aside and get to know her better was strong. I couldn't remember the last time I had met someone from home and I wanted to hold onto that moment and not let it get away from me. I allowed myself to follow the invitation to sit down and take tea with the family, Sybbie now perched on my knee, but I watched Miss Byrne and listened to everything she said with my full attention thinking all the while to myself how lovely she was.


	4. Chapter 4

A few hours later, dressed in my dinner finery of blue silk I gazed at my finished product in the mirror of my room. Edith had an eye for fashion I had to admit that. The dress hung and hugged my body in all the right places. Grace, the girl appointed to care for me had fashioned a beautiful twist at the nape of neck controlling the unruly waves that were my tresses.

"You do look lovely, Miss." Grace remarked as she checked me over.

"Thank you, Grace.

She smiled and turned going to the bag of my jewelry that had been left on the vanity and came back with the long strand of pearls that I was wishing she had left behind. With a heavy heart I allowed to put them around my neck,

"Such finery," she remarked, "Rare and perfect…wherever did you get these?"

"My mother, she gave them to me as a birthday…" the tears were there threatening and ready to make me choke, "as a birthday gift."

"Well they are beautiful. They rival the other ladies' pieces in the house. Your mother had the best taste."

I barely heard her as she spoke, fingering the soft pearls that were now around my neck. They made me think of her. I felt terrible about what had happened at tea that afternoon. I hadn't meant for my life story to come out at a table full of people I had only just met. They couldn't have known that my parents were both dead…

I didn't talk about them much. After all these years it still hurt...even if it was just flu.

It had taken so many in those months after the war and tragically it had also taken them as well. I remember the afternoon my father walked through the front door of our upper middle class house in Sutton. As the manager of bank he kept strict hours, so seeing him come home before dusk was a shock in itself that Wednesday afternoon. He complained of feeling ill and took to his bed. Ma had waited on him through that first night before she became sick herself. I then took care of them both. My mother went first. Clutching her damp palm within my own, I watched her slowly fade from this world and move to the next. A few hours later I did the same for my father. I noted the second on the clock as he took his last breath, realizing from that moment on I no longer had a family.

It wasn't until a year later when I began to feel whole again. When I felt as if I wasn't really alone in the world…

"Miss…"

At the mention of my name I pulled myself out of my reverie and smiled at Grace. The pearls were still between my finger tips and I quickly released the hold, listening to the sweet maid as she reminded me that Edith had planned for the two of us to meet in the library before dinner. I left the room tugging on the black gloves, tossing the bad memories out of my mind as quickly as I could. At the reminding of a footman I found the library and entered, surprised that it was nearly empty…save for one person.

"Mr. Branson."

He stood quickly, setting down the book that had been in his hand.

"I'm so sorry." I quickly apologized, "Edith told me-"

"No need to apologize, Miss Byrne," he interrupted, "I was waiting on everyone myself."

Touched by the sincerity in his words I smiled. He was kind. We hadn't talked very much at tea that afternoon, but I could tell that he was. "I'm afraid I'm not used to this pomp over a meal. I might have readied myself too soon."

He smiled a beautiful, genuine smile. "Better early than late."

"Wise words." I replied with a slight laugh, trying to push away the fact that his smile was still in my mind. I wandered towards the window, noting the pink of the sky as the last bits of sunlight faded into night. "Do they always do this, treat dinner as some great affair?"

"Oh yes. It's even worse when there's important company." He answered with a slight smile. "In all of the years I've been here it still isn't second nature to me."

"How long have you lived here?"

"3 years as myself…several more as the chauffer."

I laughed, "Edith did tell me that."

"Aye. The change wasn't so easy."

"I can imagine." I nodded. "I'd never know if it she hadn't told me though. You seem to have found your place in the family."

He paused a moment allowing me a long glance at his striking features. The fair hair the light eyes, his manners it all painfully reminded me of home. "Thank you for that." He replied, pulling me back from my thoughts, "Some days it doesn't feel like it. Sybbie is the link between us I suppose." He shook his head then, "Never mind all that though. It's not often I meet someone from home. Where in Ireland are you from?"

As I told him I found myself shocked to learn we had only lived an hour or so away from one another. There were many Branson's and Byrne's in the area so recognizing names wouldn't have proved much, but he did know the name of my father's bank and I knew of the street where his parents lived.

"When did you leave?" he asked, sobering the light conversation, "Before or after it all started?" he referred to the war that was raging in our homeland.

"Before." I answered, "I came here right before Christmas in '20. I guess that was still in the midst of things though wasn't it?" I said somberly, we both knowing what I referred to. The massacre at Croke Park.

He nodded. "It's a subject that pains me."

I gave a nod of my own, my head down. There was no need for him to see just how it affected me. Apparently the façade wasn't a very affective one though.

"Is that how you lost your family?"

The degree the conversation had turned stunned me. I had allowed myself to be far too comfortable talking to this man and I immediately looked up at him. There was genuine compassion in his expression and the realization held back the need I felt to ignore his question.

"No. No, they passed just after the war."

"Both?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath for strength. "The flu."

"I'm so sorry." He paused, "I didn't mean to assume it was something else. So many have died because of the unrest and we don't seem any closer to a solution."

"I don't see there being one anytime soon, Mr. Branson. The blood shed has been senseless."

"Senseless?"

"Yes, don't you agree?"

"People are dying for a cause they believe in so no I don't."

"That's not the only reason people are dying. They are dying because some are too ignorant and misinformed to believe that just for a second that there might be a better way to go about achevieing their cause."

"You don't believe in it then?"

"No," I replied thick and cool, "I don't."

He stiffened at my words. "I would figure a Catholic from Sutton would have different ideas about the state of her country."

"I'm sorry?" I had heard what he said, heard it loud and clear. "Are you telling me I'm wrong to despise this chaos?"

"Yes, I am."

With fits gritted I glared at him, trying to control the stereotypical Irish temper that was threatening to unleash itself on him. He glared back at me with just as much aggravation and it was a blessing that the door to the library opened then with Edith and her sister on the other side of it.

"What on earth…Kate what's happened?"

I snapped to her quick and fast, hoping the pigheaded man in front of me felt it as strongly as a slap in the face. "Nothing." I lied, "Nothing at all."

The rest of the family began to arrive then, each with their own puzzled looks aimed towards the two of us. Mr. Branson had the dignity to brush it off as well and attempted to bring the focus around to another subject. I went to Edith and pushed my anger down, smiling at her and complimenting her dress. I avoided Mr. Branson's gaze then and for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Tom

I'd regretted the words the second they had left my mouth. Why the hell I had even thought to say them in the first place was a mystery. Living at Downton for the last few years, I'd learned to quell my fervor for my political views. It wasn't that I was ashamed or that I didn't believe in the cause, it was for Sybbie. She deserved a home without conflict and where both sides of her family lived in peace with one another. The whole thing was out of character for me. Kathleen Byrne, she had unnerved me.

Dinner was quiet and tense, though I hoped no one else had noticed that. Matthew's mother was there and took an interest in her. Mary and Matthew were cordial, Cora and Robert, polite. I didn't say anything. I opted not to join everyone in the drawing room after and instead went to the nursery to sit with Sybbie. She had curled up in my lap; dark curls tickling against my chin and let me read her several stories from Mother Goose before falling asleep. I sat there with her for a long while after, letting myself fall into the common day dream I had where Sybil, alive and well, came into the room and smiled at me and our daughter.

A dream that would never come true.

The next morning along with Matthew, we walked to the eastern end of the estate to oversee the spring planting. I took notes for my records and had a chat with some of the men. As midday came about we headed back to the house.

"I suppose I'm going to be the one to start the conversation then." He spoke up out of nowhere.

"Sorry?"

"You and Miss Byrne. You could practically see the large purple elephant standing in the center of the room. What happened?"

I cut a glance at him. "I might have snapped at her."

"Good God why?"

"Politics."

He laughed, "Of course."

"It wasn't intentional." I explained. "One moment we were talking about home and the next…" The house was approaching.

"Well she certainly doesn't seem like a shrinking violet to me. If you disagreed I'm sure she let you know it."

"That she did." I mumbled, putting firmness in my step as I went up the grassy hill.

"You've nothing to feel bad about." He caught up with me.

"I don't."

"Not about that. She isn't hard on the eyes, no would blame you—"

"What are you talking about?!" I demanded "I never said—"

"Tom, really."

I stopped. The house was closer now, close enough to see a few figures milling about the grounds enjoying the beautiful spring day. I may have noticed, I thought silently to myself, she was beautiful and graceful and smart. Far more intelligent than any woman I had ever known.

"It's not terrible to think like that. It's been nearly 3 years since…you've mourned every day of it. You shouldn't feel awful about noticing Miss Byrne." He spoke up. "I've been in your place even though the circumstances were different and I've managed to move on and still honor her memory. It can be done, Tom."

I shook my head. "I can't ever do that. You didn't have a child, I do."

"One that seems quite smitten with the lady in question." He replied, looking straight ahead. I followed his gaze and to my shock saw Sybbie, clad in her white ruffled dress and large floppy hair ribbon running from the nurse over to Miss Byrne who was strolling along the path with Edith at her side. I watched Miss Byrne stop and kneel down to greet her with a smile.

Well that certainly complicated things. She could me with me one moment and be sweet as honey to my daughter the next. Intent on putting a stop to it, though I wasn't sure why, I left Matthew and stalked the distance between us and them quickly. When I neared, I saw that Sybbie's hand was in the delicate gloved one of Miss Byrne.

"Tom, Matthew." Edith greeted. Matthew was apparently not far behind me. "Where have you been?"

As Matthew explained I went over to Sybbie and picked her up, settling her on my side as I looked at Miss Byrne. She stared back, her expression unreadable.

Kate

He seemed angry with me…again. I couldn't be sure of it, but I knew it stemmed from his daughter. I looked over at her and gave her a small smile to which she giggled. From the corner of my eye I saw a footman approach and go to Edith and her brother in law.

"The mail has arrived, Mr. Crawley and Lady Edith you have a phone call."

Lovely. I thought as the two made their exits and left me alone with Mr. Branson and the little girl. The nursemaid was nowhere in sight now so there would be no distraction there. With no other available options in sight I looked back at Mr. Branson, but was surprised to find that his expression had softened. Sybbie had wiggled down from his arms, losing interest in the silence I imagined, and running towards a cluster of buttercups blooming in the grass not far away.

"Miss Byrne." He said after a moment, "I owe you the biggest of apologies for what happened last night."

It was the ice breaker I needed. Relieved I gave him a small smile. "I owe you one as well, Mr. Branson. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Neither should I." he gave a slight laugh. "Truce?" he held out his hand.

"Truce." I agreed and shook it.

He broke the grasp when he saw that his daughter had moved further away from us. With a slight of his head he indicated he was going to follow her and invited me along. We remained a good few paces behind her as she let her child wonderment take her from one object to another in the wide green lawn.

"She seems to like you." He commented.

I smiled, "She's a dear. I can't say I've been around many children in my life. She'll be a memorable first."

"You don't have any brothers or sisters?"

"I was an only child."

He laughed out loud. "There are 10 in my family."

"Ten?! Oh God, your poor mother!"

He continued to chuckle. "You would think so, but no she loved every moment of it. She probably would have gone to twenty if my Da had let her."

"Where do you fall in the order?"

"Second to last, I have a younger sister, Mary Elizabeth."

We talked more. It was so very easy to talk to him. He told me more about his family. I learned he had a brother that lived not very far away and a sister and her husband that lived in London with their four children. Occasionally he interrupted the conversation to call out to Sybbie, but I didn't mind. We walked around the grand house, talking and watching the little girl play and all from the night before was completely forgotten about.

I enjoyed his company, I found. I didn't have many friends in London or even Ireland for that matter, save for Edith. It was nice to feel comfortable with someone. We came around the house again, the front entrance in sight and he called out for his daughter that it was time to go in.

We walked in by ourselves, no footman or butler in sight and I watched smiling as Sybbie took that opportunity to run through to the parlor, her shoes clacking against the shiny floors. Mr. Branson did nothing to stop her, cutting me a grin. "I have to let her be free every once in a while."

I laughed as he shut the door behind us. "You know, Miss Byrne." He came around, "I'd prefer if you called me 'Tom'. Formalities aren't for me."

"I can do that. As long as you call me, Kate of course."

"Easily done, Kate." There was warmth in his words that caught me when he spoke. The way my name came off his tongue was as sweet and smooth as honey and for a moment I felt like the world had gone quiet around us. The moment was cut short by Sybbie running back into the front hall and pulling our attention away.

"I should go find Edith." I said.

"I should take her back to the nursery." He said.

We said our good byes, him going up the stairs and me into the drawing room, with lingering stares.

How had this happened?


	6. Chapter 6

Kate

I found Edith in the drawing room much to my relief. She was perched in a chair by the window, the latest edition of Vogue in her hands.

"There you are." She looked up as I came in. "Where did you disappear to?"

"Tom took me for a walk around the estate."

She cracked a smile "Tom is it now? Not Mr. Branson?"

I sat down on the sofa. "Yes. He asked me to call that."

She smiled again, this time indulgent and near mocking. "I see." She picked up her magazine and began to glance through the pages again. "I've had a call from Michael Gregson." She changed the subject fluidly.

"You have?" I knew of their relationship…or lack thereof. For years they had been dancing around one another, flirting, but nothing more because of his wife. His poor mentally unstable wife who had spent the last fifteen years in an asylum. I was sure I was one of the few people Edith had confided in about the state of things between them.

"His wife's suffering has ended." She put the magazine down once more and stared at me, happiness dancing in her eyes. "It's terrible I know, but you realize what this means?"

Of course I did, but I said nothing.

"Don't think ill of me, Kate. She was a sick woman and the marriage was over years ago."

"Death is never something to rejoice over, Edith." I replied somberly. I had no idea what Mr. Gregson must be feeling, but losing someone you loved, even long ago…I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

She stood, "Oh fine then, be that way. I am happy and it will end well, I can promise you that. In a few months you could be dancing at my wedding." And with that said she left the room.

I dressed for dinner again that night with Grace's help. I left the string of pearls in the bag this time and opted for a black beaded necklace to go with my dark green silk. In London I couldn't have believed the price tags on some of the items Edith and I had purchased, the money wasn't a problem, I had worked all through college, as a seamstress and working in shops and frugally saved every penny, but buying dresses I would only wear once was hard. Now though, standing in the mirror, all done up I couldn't say I regretted. It felt nice to be pretty. And I found myself wanting to look nice…

I left my room and was surprised to come upon Edith in the corridor. She saw me too, but didn't stop or even acknowledge me. Staring, I watched her walk away and down the stairs in a huff. Another door behind her opened and Lady Mary emerged. She saw the whole thing.

"Kate." She said with familiarity, "Shall we walk down together?"

I looked at her, the slight from Edith lingering. Being that she was a Lady though, I managed a smile and a nod. "Thank you."

We started down the stairs together.

"You and Edith seem to be at odds." She observed.

"Just a disagreement, my lady."

"Mary, Please. Your disagreement, did it have anything to do with Mr. Gregson."

We reached the landing and turned to the next flight. "Yes, I'm afraid I don't exactly agree with her on things."

She produced a small smile. "I think you'll find you're not alone in that respect." We reached the floor and she turned to me, "Stand strong, Kate. This situation takes reasoning." She then continued on the way to the library.

Tom

At dinner I watched with some resentment as Kate was seated between Matthew and Rose. It might have been with good intentions however, the Dowager had chosen to dine with us that night.

"Where in Ireland do you hail from, Miss Byrne?" she inquired.

"Sutton," she answered, "Close to Dublin."

"And how did you come to be in England?"

I watched her hesitate before she answered, "I was in need of a change, I suppose." I noted the suspicious pause however. There was something she wasn't saying.

The dowager scoffed in acceptance, "From Ireland to England I'd certainly call that an improvement." The others at the table exchanged wry smiles at that while I sat back, impressed. She could hold her own, that was for sure. "You're certainly more polished than what we're used to. Do you come from their nobility?"

I looked at Kate. The thought hadn't occurred to me. She certainly didn't look as out of place as I did at Downton, did she?

"No, Lady Grantham, I don't. My father was a banker-"

"A banker? Upper middle class, that's very interesting, I must say. What was your mother's name?"

Still strong and composed she took a sip from her glass and replied, "Josephine Beaumont."

"Beaumont doesn't sound very Irish to me." The dowager said, expressing my thoughts allowed. "I wonder…"

The conversation was then changed by Edith, but I didn't pay attention to what. I wanted to know what that meant though. I didn't have time to speak to her until well after dinner and the brandy and cigars. I found her in the drawing room, sitting in a corner by herself, holding a cup of tea.

"You're full of secrets then." I said lightly, sitting down next to her.

"Am I?"

"Your mother was English?"

"It wasn't a secret, you never asked." She answered. She looked past me and over to Edith who was carrying on a conversation with her grandmother, completely oblivious to Kate's presence. "She's cross with me." She said softly, quickly changing the subject.

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't approve of what she's doing."

"And what is that?"

She looked down into her cup. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure we'll sort it out."

"Well that's good. I'm bringing you back to the original subject then, is that why you came here? To be with your mother's family?"

Looking up she shot me a glance. "What I said at dinner was the truth, I needed a change. My mother had no family to speak of. Neither did my father for that matter. I don't understand why you're so interested either. You're not going to fight with me again are you? Because of my lineage?"

"Seeing as how my daughter is Irish and English I find that unlikely." I leaned in closer to her. "There is something you're keeping to yourself though, isn't there?"

"Everyone has secrets." She whispered back.

"I don't so why don't you tell me yours so I will?"

"I—" but she stopped. Calmly she set her teacup and saucer aside and rose, "I believe I'll retire now." She told me. Saying her thanks to Robert and Cora she swiftly left the room. I saw Matthew glance over at me with an eyebrow raised in question, but I shrugged it off. There was something she was hiding, something bad I'd wager. And I intended to find out what.

Kate

"Damn him" I said to myself when I safely reached my room. "Damn him to hell!" I had been doing so well today. The bad memories had stayed at bay. Despite the unrest with Edith it had been a wonderful day. I felt as if I had made a new friend and now he had decided to pick at me? There were some things I just wasn't willingly to tell anyone. I had my secrets, my share of them and I planned on keeping it that way. Lord knows what the Crawley's would think of me if they knew why I had really come to England

I hadn't needed a change, I had needed a place to hide. I had runaway to the only place I thought I could stay hidden and it had nothing to do with my mother. Ripping my dinner gloves off I threw them on the bed out of frustration. I missed my parents, yes, but I'd stay in Ireland after their death. It had taken a great deal more to push me out of that country. With a moment of clarity, I went to the wardrobe and opened it, finding my suitcase and setting it on the floor to open it. Inside the lining I pulled the tin pocket out and open it, revealing the handsome face inside of it. He was it…I ran my finger across the smooth paper of the portrait…David was the spark for it all.

He had been an English solider, a Captain, sent to Ireland to keep the peace among the loyals and the rebels after the War. It had been after church one Sunday in 1919 that I had met him. I'd gone into a shop with my dearest friend Darcy, whose parents had taken me in the year before after I had lost my parents. I had miscalculated the cost of a trinket box and he had come to my rescue at the register with a shilling. After that he said I owed him a walk through the Dublin Zoo the next weekend. Despite Darcy's warnings, I had agreed. It was stupid, a catholic girl who mingled with strong republicans going on an outing with an English soldier, but I hadn't cared. I'd fallen in love with him at first sight. I likened us to Romeo and Juliet without thinking of the tragedy and found myself falling more and more in love with him every time I saw him. I was warned that he was the enemy, warned that he could be using me, but I knew he wasn't and still to this day that fact comforted me.

I held the picture to my chest, closing my eyes and praying my love to his soul. I'd never forgive myself for what happened, never, as long as I lived.


	7. Chapter 7

Tom

The next morning, I shaved and dressed with unusual haste despite the fact that church was later that morning and made my way down to the dining room in a record time. To my satisfaction I saw the one person I had been seeking, sitting at the table sipping her tea and reading a letter alone save for Mr. Carson who was at his usual place near the sideboard. I bid him a good morning, fetched myself a plate and sat down next to my sister-in-law.

"Edith."

She put down her letter, "Yes?"

I jumped right to the subject, forgoing any senseless conversation. "Tell me about Miss Byrne?"

"Tell you about her? I thought you two were on a first name basis now." She went to pick up her letter again, but I put a hand to her wrist to stop her.

"I know you've had a fight—"

"Did she tell you that?" she asked offended.

"In so many words," I rushed, trying to get back to the subject at hand, "It's none of my business. I just want to know what you know about her. Her family? Why she left Ireland?"

"I'm not cross with her." She continued, oblivious to what I had just said, "At least not anymore—"

"Edith, could you tell her that yourself later?"

She cut me a look, her red waves bobbing. "Oh all right. All she's ever told me about her family was that her father was a banker and that he and her mother died years ago."

"How?"

She looked around, scanning the room and noting Carson in the corner. "The Spanish flu."

"Both of them?" I was honestly shocked.

"Yes," she answered sadly, "I'm assuming that's why she left."

I nodded absently. If there was any reason to leave your home it was a good bout of painful memories. I sat back in my chair, taking in what the twist of the situation and feeling intense guilt over what I had initially thought. A sketchy past perhaps even committing a crime like I had done, not this though, most definitely not this…

As if she had known we were speaking of her, Kate appeared in the dining room door, dressed in her Sunday best. I was momentarily touched by the fact that it appeared she still wanted to attend mass with me, but it was clear she had been looking for Edith and the addition of myself took her aback. She gave us each a quarter smile and then said good morning to Mr. Carson in the corner. Thankfully Edith took the initiative beside me to break the ice. "Kate, might we go for a walk?"

Relief washed over her and she nodded a yes. Edith rose from the table, linked an arm through hers and guided her out the door. Mr. Carson, who had seen the quick exchange from his corner, regarded me with one of his unreadable gazes.

"A very nice lady," he remarked, not bothering to hide his true thoughts. I raised an eyebrow at him and then focused my attention of my eggs.

Kate

"I can't even begin to tell you how disgusted I am with my behavior." Edith spoke as she led me out into the hall.

"Don't say that. I shouldn't have said anything." I told her, truly meaning it, "You're not some silly little girl. You know exactly what you're doing and who am I to say otherwise?"

She smiled and stopped. "You're my friend, that's who you are. Friends tell each other the truth, even when it's hard to hear…or say. I value your sound opinions and empathic ideals. Sometimes, I think, I'm in such a rush to get to some point I might overlook what's right in front of my face." A footman walked by and she quieted, taking me into a closer confidence, "I don't have very many friends—"

"Of course you do." I interrupted.

She smiled again, touched by my words. "Not really. I have many acquaintances, but very few friends that I can trust. You're one of them, Kate and you know Michael as well as I do, if there's any point of view I should consider, it is yours."

It was my turn to smile then. Quickly, before I began to cry, I gave her a hug. "Absolutely no more fighting." I said as we parted. "My nerves can't handle it."

"Nor mine," she laughed

And just as simply as that, we were friends once again.

I had near forgotten that it was Easter when I'd woken up that morning. My entire attention had been focused on seeking out Edith and making amends and was only reminded of the day when Grace had come in. Now that the matter with Edith was settled though, I went back to my room and gathered my things into a small handbag before going back down. Tom was absent from the dining room when I went back in, but Lord Grantham, Matthew and Edith were all there and sat down and enjoyed a light breakfast with them. When I was done Edith followed me into the salon where I waited for Tom to reappear. We chatted for a bit before seeing him come down the stairs with Sybbie, as perfectly coifed as a porcelain doll, hanging onto his hand. She ran up to me and twirled in her pale yellow dress.

"I am a princess." She stated.

"You certainly are." I bent down and she grinned a bright smile, relishing in her compliment.

Edith walked us out to the front where a car had been brought around, one of Matthew's she told me. A footman opened the door while Tom went to the driver's side.

"Thank you, Alfred." The little girl said politely as he helped Sybbie into the backseat. I almost followed her, but realized how presumptuous it might be to do so. I probably hadn't been fair to Tom the night before and it wasn't in me to hold a grudge. I allowed Alfred to help me up and was sure to thank him as the door closed. Edith waved from the steps and we were off.

The church wasn't terribly far away and the car ride was pleasant despite the quiet. When we arrived, Tom made sure to find us a pew in the back just in case Sybbie got too noisy. She sat between us and though her feet dangled happily from the seat, she was quiet as we began the prayers and then took the Eucharist. Towards the end, as the priest spoke she began to fidget more and found my handbag. Noting there was nothing she could break in there, I let her have it. She dug through and pulled the comb and compact and finally my rosary beads. The pearl and gold chain captured her attention and she began to run her fingers along it….

*****

Sitting on a blanket in the park that warm summer day, I watched David pull the rosary out of the pocket of my bag and study it.

"You need jewels to go to church then?" he teased.

I went to snatch it away from him, laughing. "No, you pray with it."

"Uh huh." He closed his hand around it and gave me a playful wink. "What do you pray for? World hunger? The poor? Me?"

"All three and all the same prayer…to go away!" I joked back.

He kept the game going, "Ah, your mouth says one thing, but your lips say something completely different." He bent in to capture my lips. "It's going to take a lot more than a prayer to get rid of me, Sweetheart."

I smiled and gave him a deep kiss of my own, distracting him enough to pry the rosary from his hands and deposit it safely in the pocket of my dress.

"Well bloody hell you're good at that!"

"I've had a good teacher." I teased. He laughed and pulled me into his arms, cradling me against him. For a long, but blissful moment, we were quiet. Then, without preamble, he nudged his lips against my cheek and whispered softly into my ear. "I love you."

It was the first time he had said those powerful words and I found myself shaking from happiness as each left his lips. My arms went around him and we kissed again before I replied the same. His brown eyes clouded with warmth in reply as he brushed a thumb against my cheek. He said nothing, be he didn't need to. I knew what he meant; I could feel it from my heart to my soul and back again. For that moment I forgot about the ugly stares that my neighbors had given me, the threats, and the hatred. In that one perfect moment, I couldn't have been happier or more in love.

******  
A touch on my hand brought me back to reality. I looked up expecting to see Sybbie, but it wasn't her. Tom gave me a warm smile and then opened his hand up. For an unexplained reason I allowed him to take my hand within his own and give it a reassuring squeeze. I instantly warmed to his touch and felt the urge to move closer to him, but no, Sybbie was still there, leaning against him now, her eyes barely open. Instead, I smiled back at him, for the first time noticing the blue green of his eyes and for a fleeting moment, feeling like we were the only two in the church.


	8. Chapter 8

I had looked over and see the unmistakable pain in her eyes. There were no tears, no trembling, no outward signs of what she was feeling on the inside. She was perfectly composed and anyone that happened to glance at her might just assume that she was entranced by the service, but I saw it. I was all too familiar with that pain and the clever ways to hide it. I reached for her purely out of instinct. Near stranger or no, I was a person and I could offer a smile. She flinched only slightly when my head brushed against hers, but it didn't seem to be from repulsion. I saw the clouds fade away as she looked at me. I noticed then the deep color of her eyes. Were they blue or green…I couldn't tell. Her hair was bright and soft pinned back, the line of her jaw was delicate and suddenly the urge to touch her wasn't satisfied by just a stroke on her hand…when Sybbie moved in my lap I was brought back to reality and away from those thoughts.

After Mass ended we both followed in step behind Sybbie who broke into a skip towards the car. My hands clasped behind my back, I attempted to make small talk, but she was quiet. I surmised the episode was about her parents. After what I had heard from Edith over breakfast I couldn't not believe that it would upset her. My mother-in-laws experience with it had shaken Sybil and she had fully recovered, I couldn't imagine what it would have been like for her to actually lose not just one parent, but two.

"Da?" Sybbie spoke up when we reached the car. "We are going to see Mama?"

I stopped. I had completely forgotten about that. We always went to Sybil's grave after didn't go every Sunday, but Sybbie knew that when we did we fetched flowers and stopped at the Episcopal Church to visit her.

"Darling, perhaps another time."

"No! We hav-ta go! We always go!" the tantrum was brewing. Just when I thought she'd grown out of that stage something like this happened.

"Sybil," I knelt down and tried to put a stop to the fit before it got started, but she pulled away and gave me a dead on glare. However, to my surprise Kate had shaken away her cobwebs and was quick to give her consent.

"Don't deny her on my account. I really don't mind."

Sighing I feigned a glance at my watch and then adjusted my hat. I knew their services had released at the same time as ours and by the time we got there we wouldn't have to worry about a crowd, but all the same I hated going there. Hated it almost as much as I hated nearly every morning that I had woken up these last three years without my wife beside me. The thought of her laying in that coffin, in the cold and dark…

"Da?"

"Yes, of course. If Kate is fine with it."

Sybbie looked at Kate her once again nodded. "Of course." She helped Sybbie into the car and then climbed into the front seat herself, shutting the door as I was getting in. Before I put the keys in the ignition, I turned to her, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She gave me a soft smile.

"You're feeling up to it." I asked with emphasis, referring to the way she was only moments before.

"Yes, don't mind me."

Kate

I'd meant it. After my lost moment in the church I needed the distraction, though I wasn't sure if visiting a cemetery was the right way to do it, my heart felt a certain tenderness towards little Sybbie. I wasn't going to let her father deny her the want based on the fact that I was with them. The three of us drove to the church which was on the way to Downton, stopping along the way to fetch some flowers. When we arrived, Sybbie jumped out of the back, clutching the Day Lilies in her hand and running from the car through the gate that led to the church yard. She knew exactly where she was going.

Tom waited and walked up with me. The air between us felt more comfortable and I fell into an easy step beside him. "Thank you for this. I'd honestly forgotten she would expect it." His voice was soft and full of gratitude.

"I can understand how important it is to her. I feel the same way about my mother."

"Is that who you were thinking about?" he referred silently to the moment in church.

No it wasn't, but I didn't say so. I simply shook my head and focused on our path through the mass of gravestones and memorials. I could see him nod in response from the corner of my eye and he continued on towards Sybbie while I silently found myself a bench and sat down. I watched the two of them. He was so very sweet with her. Even my own father, who was quite devoted, was never that way with me. I suppose the death of his wife had a lot to do with that. I watched as he knelt down next to her, his arms protectively around her as she spoke in a soft voice. Both had their eyes on the raised tomb in front of them that read "Sybil Branson" on the side.

1895-1920.

She was only two years older than me.

It wasn't fair, I told myself. Death was never fair, especially for the very young and neither was it for those they left behind. David had been older. He would have been thirty-two this year, but that didn't make it any more tolerable. I'd never been to see him. I knew he was in Somerset, Alec had told me that, but I knew nothing else. If I had been told, I'd forgotten it. Silently I began to note the dates, realizing that Sybil Branson and David had passed within months of one another. The grief Tom and I both felt was nearly equal in its lingering state. He had something I didn't though, something I'd almost had, but was taken away from me just as abruptly as my love had been; he had Sybbie.

The wind rustled through the new leaves of the trees above me. Everything around me was green and fragrant and full of spring. It was a beautiful day and it momentarily took me away from the sad place I found myself in. Sybbie, now away from her father's grasp was coming towards me with a skip in her step. She held out a left over lily and I took it with a smile.

"Isn't this one for your Mama?"

She shook her head. "You can give it to your Mama." How the child had remembered Edith talking about my parents amazed me, but I was too overcome with her act of kindness to remark upon it. With tears in my eyes, I gathered her up in my arms and gave her a hug. "You're so very kind, but my mother rests far away from here. I don't think the lily would make the trip."

"Where is she?"

"She's in heaven like your Mama, but her stone is in Ireland."

"Like the Ireland with my other grandmamma."

"The very same."

She scooted herself up onto the bench and beside me. "Was she very pretty? My mama was."

"She was. She had brown eyes and golden hair. She was as pretty as a fairy."

Her eyes went wide. "A fairy?"

"Hasn't your papa told you about fairies?"

Tom approached. "The subject has never come up." He replied guilty. It was a light change to the moment one that I could see was welcome. So I pulled Sybbie close, feeling my heart skip as she laid her head against me and allowed me to tell her about the Sprites that lived in the forests, The Roanes of the Sea, and other tales that I had not spoken of since my own grandmamma had told them to me years and years ago. Tom sat next to us and listened, no doubt her heard the same stories growing up. I gathered all Irish children had heard them at the feet of the grandparents on cold winters nights. These stories kept us entranced and in line. Fairies were known to take away little children who didn't listen to their Mama's and Papa's. Sybbie listened with wide eyes.

"Oh my." Exclaimed after I told her the tale of river fairies, "Are they really real?"

"It depends on who you ask." Tom spoke up.

"Well they are." She decided with a firm finality.

I smiled and Tom laughed, neither one of us could argue with that.

When we arrived back at the house it was well into the afternoon and Sybbie was in need of a nap, rather than have a footman walk her to the nursery though, she took my head and bid me to take her up instead. The nanny acknowledged us when we stepped in the nursery while Sybbie led the way to her bed in the corner next to the window. She climbed onto the metal bed, grabbed a doll and blanket and laid down on her pillow. "More fairy stories?" she asked.

"More? Let me see…"

My experiences with children was limited to say the least. I had no brothers or sisters or even cousins around me growing up, but sitting here in that nursery with that little girl who I had no connection to, I felt…right. As if she had wanted me to be there, wanted me near her. I brushed a dark lock of hair away from her sweet face and began to tell her a story of my own making. A fairy girl named Sybbie whom everyone loved, animals and people. She was smiling when she finally drifted off to sleep and I rose quietly and made my way out of the nursery on tip toes so as not to disturb her. I shut the door quietly behind me, but nearly undid my hard work when I jumped back in surprise when I saw Tom standing in the hall. He'd been watching the whole thing.

"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly in my direction, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright." I answered.

"You're wonderful with her." He spoke softly and tenderly, it felt as soft as a stroke across my cheek. I could feel the color rising in my cheeks. "Have you ever thought about having one of your own?"

For once the memories stayed at bay and I could clearly answer, "I used to. I've rather given up on the idea though."

"You shouldn't."

I looked up. It wasn't what he had said, but rather how he had. His voice was softer, huskier. His eyes showed a need and trapped desire…and then I could see no more. His arms came around me and his lips so tender and demanding were on mine. I didn't think to push him away, I didn't want to. The intensity shook me to my toes, it was if he had to kiss me or die. I was the first sip of water after walking a hundred miles in the desert. When he pulled away, his hand remained on the back of my neck and he held me close.

"I'm so sorry." He said in an almost seductive whisper.

"Don't be" I told him.

He laughed, brushed a hand through my hair and let it fall softly down my cheek to my neck. "I'd say this changes things, don't you?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Tom_

You wouldn't have known anything was different during dinner that night. Kate sat next to Edith as the entire family was crowded at the table including Matthew's mother and her husband, Dr. Clarkson. They had married only the year before and it was still odd to see him at the table as one of the family, though I suppose people felt that way towards me for a while and might even still. As the conversations moved fluidly from one to another I spoke up when I was bid to and caught quick glances to Kate whenever possible. If she was doing the same I never caught her.

I feared I had scared her off. The moment outside the nursery had been brief. I had broken it apart before a maid or footman could come a long and though she appeared accepting at the time a creeping thought nagged at me that she may have changed her mind about it between then and now. I hoped not. She had awakened feelings in me I hadn't felt in years. I felt… peaceful in her presence. I felt comfortable, happy. Kissing her had been on a whim, but the fire I felt upon touching her lips had lingered.

When dinner was over and the ladies began to rise from their seats, Edith led the way behind my chair and Kate followed. I noted her ivory gown, the dark tendrils curling at her ears, but looked away quickly before someone caught me. She brushed by me though and there was no mistaking the touch of her fingers on my arm. She didn't look back or even hint that she had done anything and walked out of the room behind the others. I smiled to myself as the door closed, the fear in me vanishing without another thought.

The cigars and brandy after dinner was a custom that had grown on me. At first it had been as uncomfortable as you could imagine, but as my relationship with Robert and Matthew had progressed, moments like that had become easier. We talked estate business usually, a topic where we all stood on equal ground.

"Miss Byrne is quite a nice young lady." Dr. Clarkson observed as Carson began to pour the brandy. "Nice for Lady Edith to have a friend who shares her interest."

"I agree." Robert said. "She seems to be a pleasant influence on her. That whole business with her working for the paper seems a little less threatening now."

"Times have changed." Matthew said, lighting his cigar. "It seems for the best."

Robert drank briefly from his tumbler. "When old fools like myself and Clarkson step back and let it happen." He joked. "Sybbie could be the prime minister one day at the rate things are going."

"That would be something." I replied with a smile of my own. I doubt I'd ever see a catholic in the prime ministers chair though. The conversation then moved to the spring planting on the estate and work matters soon took over. Though I discussed crops and profits a part of my mind was elsewhere.

On her.

_Kate_

"Miss Byrne you're practically a pioneer in your field, aren't you? You and Edith both. It's so refreshing to open a paper and see a woman's name in print below the title of an article. Have you always wanted to write?"

Oh, Mrs. Clarkson was a talker! She had seated herself next to me on the sofa in the drawing room after dinner and immediately began to talk. I liked her though. She was genuinely interested in me, I could tell, and definitely wasn't trying to be mean. Lady Grantham smiled in kindness across from me perched in a chair. She was observing the conversation between Mrs. Clarkson and I.

"I have always liked it." I answered, "When I was a child I was either reading or writing. Thankfully my parents were understanding of my odd habits. I'd rather have my nose in a book than play with my dolls. I practically lived in the nearby library."

"There is nothing wrong with an informed woman, I say." And she turned back to me. "What made you decide to go into journalism rather than becoming the next Jane Austen?"

I fiddled with a loose thread on my glove. "I think because I wanted people to know what I have seen. I have opinions, very unpopular opinions to some, but I want them to know why I think the way that I do. I want the world to know I'm not some empty headed female and perhaps I can challenge others to use their brains in productive ways."

"What a wonderful answer. An educated girl that is neither too proud nor too romanticized. I approve!" she replied and I laughed softly.

"You sound like Tom." Lady Grantham spoke up. "When he first came around here he was very opinionated and was vocal about it all whether others liked it or not. I believe that's why he appealed to Sybil. I'm afraid for too long things were only one way for her. He was a breath of fresh air to her. She was so proud of him for taking that job with the paper in Dublin."

"I didn't know he wrote."

"Yes, he was very…interested in the republican cause in Ireland."

"Unfortunately that didn't lead to anything good for him." Mrs. Clarkson said.

"What happened?" Now I was very interested. It seemed I wasn't the only one with a skeleton in my closet."

"Well…" and Lady Grantham went on to tell me about how deeply into "the cause" Tom had been. The secret meetings with the IRA, the burning of the Montgomery's house in Dublin. I remembered that. David had spoken of it. The family was very English, very aristocratic.

"He was a part of that?" I asked.

"In a way." Mrs. Clarkson answered. "Once he saw what was happening he left. Which we give him credit for. He can never go back to Ireland because of it."

"Oh." Suddenly my estimation of the man had fallen. Greatly. Before I could think any more of it though, Edith came over and sat next to me. "I think I might accompany you back to London tomorrow morning." She said and I was led away from the subject of the Rebellious Republican Tom Branson. However twenty or so minutes later when the men came into the room to join us, I found myself deliberately avoiding his gaze. He didn't have a chance to notice though because Edith spoke up to the whole room suggesting we all take the air outside. Mary and Matthew agreed and soon everyone else did as well. I sighed as Edith began to lead me outside through the library.

It was a pleasant evening. The air was warm, the starts and moon were shining bright and slowly people began to disperse themselves in various directions. It left Tom, Edith and I alone in the stream of light that came from the open library door.

"It is a bit chilly out here." Edith spoke up and my gaze cut to her. It wasn't cold at all. "I think I'll go and fetch a wrap. You two go on without me." And she rushed inside.

I stood there dumbfounded. She had set this up! Tom didn't seem to be upset in the least about it though and held out his arm to me as if nothing was wrong. I took it, only because the others would have noticed if I didn't.

_Tom_

I led us in the opposite direction of the others, but not so out of the way that it would be improper. She didn't say anything as we strolled. In fact, she felt rather stiff on my arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." She replied shortly.

"Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Yes." Another short answer. I stopped and looked at her. Her mouth was set in a thin line and she was keeping her gaze forward.

"Something the matter?"

"You didn't tell me you were a republican." She suddenly whirled on me.

"I didn't? Yes, I did."

"Not the radical kind that go around setting homes on fire and planting bombs."

"I never planted a bomb. Who told you-"

"You hurt people."

"Kate—"

"They weren't all evil." She suddenly whirled on me."They weren't all there to make our lives miserable!" She then turned nd walked away from me towards the bench behind the giant tree, but I wasn't going to let her get away that easily. I broke into a short jog after her. When I reached her, there was no mistaking the tears running down her face. She sat down on the bench and buried her face in her hands and said nothing.

I was speechless. She'd taken me aback by saying what she had and now…now she was crying. What the hell had happened to her? Cautiously I knelt down beside her and gave her a moment. "What did they do to you?"

She shook her head and lifted it to look out into the darkness. "Not to me."

"Then who?" She went silent, as if she were debating with herself on whether to tell me or not and when I rose to sit down next to her I could see the torment written all over her face.

"I can't say." She answered at last.

"Why?"

Her head fell. "For reasons I can't say. I can't tell anyone." There were tears brimming in her eyes, tears that spoke volumes and I couldn't help but to push my suspicions aside and put an arm around her. I realized I felt a closeness with this woman that I hadn't felt with anyone since Sybil's death. I wanted to comfort her, I wanted her to smile and above all I wanted to be the person to make all of that happen. She hadn't said she felt the same way, in fact she seemed rather guarded about all of it, but I didn't need words to tell me there was something there. Something had happened to make her so cautious, to make her reel at the thought that I may have been like one of my radical brothers back home. "I used to believe in it." She then spoke up in an aching whisper. "My father was a quiet supporter of Michael Collins. There were meetings held at my house, plans and ideas were exchanged at my English mother's dining room table. Every boy I grew up with wanted to fight for the cause, even some of the girls and I was surrounded by all of that. I wanted the freedom, I wanted to walk down the street freely as a catholic. I never thought about wars, fighting or killing, not until after the Uprising." She paused for a moment and looked up into the darkness. "My uncle was killed on the second day of it. They couldn't even keep the casket open at his funeral his body had been so mutilated. After that, I couldn't support any longer. I told myself there were better ways to go about gaining our freedom. I ignored what the history books said about successful revolutions. I just wanted peace."

I nodded. "I take it your uncle wasn't the person you were speaking of before though, was he?"

She shook her head. "No, he wasn't."

"Was it a man?"

She paused and then nodded.

"Did you love him?"

She turned to me, her face near emotionless. "With all that I am."

Even if we had been speaking of another man, one that I found myself oddly jealous of, I lifted a hand to her cheek and moved towards her. The kiss I brushed onto her lips wasn't as hurried or frenzied as the one before. She accepted it and responded in time and the kiss became deeper as our arms came around one another. The spark I had felt between us ignited once more and judging from her response, I knew she had felt it too.

God help me, I was losing my head over her.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

_Kate_

Mickey Sullivan had been a staple in my life since the time I was six. He was the one who had taught me to kick a football on the cobbled stone sidewalk outside my house, taught me how to swear, taught me how to spit…taught me how to kiss…

He was my first love. The boy I dreamt of in my girlhood room with the canopied bed, the one my heart wept for when he was drafted into the army only a week after the war began and the one that ultimately caused me the greatest heartache I would ever know.

In the late summer of 1914 I stood with him on the dock in down town Dublin, dressed practically in a dark blue skirt and cream colored blouse. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Roark had thought to throw a knitted shawl over my shoulders before I walked out the door an hour before and as an icy breeze swept over me from the water, I was thankful for it. I watched Mickey say goodbye to his family. His mother, father and four sisters and younger brother. They wept over him, leaving stains of tears on his new brown army uniform, but I doubted he cared. When he was able to pull away from them, he finally made his way over to me. Mrs. Roark told me "the boy is the blackest of Irish" and I noted several times she may have been onto something. His hair was jet black, far darker than my own and his eyes were soft, warm chocolate pools. They were full of emotion then, holding back the tears I knew he wanted to shed.

He took my hand into his and held it tightly. It was as close to contact as we were allowed with his family so close by.

"I don't want to go." He said in a voice so quiet it was nearly a whisper.

"No one does." I replied sadly.

"It doesn't even affect us yet because the damn English is fighting, so do we."

"I'll write you." I said in a soft tone, attempting to change the subject so I wouldn't start crying myself. The area was thick with emotions and I was beginning to feel sick. It seemed to do the trick and he smiled down at me. Though it was frowned upon for two unmarried people to touch in anyway but a hand hold, he pulled me against his tall form and squeezed before parting us once more.

"You'll wait for me then?" he then asked.

I stood there for a moment, startled. Waiting for him? It didn't just mean waiting, it meant being here for him when he came back, for him to marry. It was a proposal for a proposal. And for reasons I couldn't explain, I nodded. "Yes."

He kissed me on the cheek. A quick peck that I realized later had little emotion behind it and gave me a small smile before he threw his bag over a shoulder and started for the ship.

I went home by myself, hailing a cab back to my house in Sutton. Mrs. Roark greeted me at the door, having never gone back to bed when I had left earlier. She was a woman in her mid forties, nearly my mother's age, but she shouldered so much more responsibility. She took my shawl and hung it up on the stand near the door, silently instructing me to wipe my muddy boots on the mat. "Did he get off then?"

I nodded.

"Did he propose?"

I looked sharply up at her and she nearly laughed. "That's what young folks do before they part isn't it?"

"He asked me to wait for him."

"Well that's nearly the same thing isn't it?"

"Mama won't approve."

She shook her head. My mother most certainly wouldn't. She wouldn't say it directly, but I knew she had higher aspirations for me than Mickey, whose father was a mere shop owner.

"Is she awake yet?" I asked, following her further into the house, noting the roaring fire in the sitting room and the scent of toast from the kitchen.

"I expect them down any moment. Go freshen up while I see to your father's coffee."

Four years later, Mrs. Roark was again the one who saw me out the door on the way to the docks. There was no need for a shawl that time, it was hot and sunny out and happy kind of weather that put an extra spring in my step. He was coming home. Home! Finally! Again I took the cab down town, paying the driver with a smile on my face and racing down the steps, holding my straw bonnet tightly to my head as I did so. I waited with the other girls, wives and mothers for the gates to the ship to open, which seemed to have been docked for some time already. It took me only a moment to spot him in the crowd that began to disperse down the gang plank and I was running towards him and was in front of him before his foot had barely set foot on dry land.

"Mickey!" the four years had passed slowly, but had taken with them the old worlds propriety and so I jumped into his arms without any hesitation. I pulled back to look at him and quickly felt my heart sink. The gaze on his face that greeted me was older, darker and sadder than the one that had left me. His cheeks were sunken, there were deep bags under his eyes that showed a great deal of time without decent rest. There was no smile upon his lips to greet my own, not even a forced one. "Mickey..." I said his name again. Why? I couldn't say, maybe to make sure it was actually him. He set me down.

"Kathleen."

"Mickey?"

"Michael." He was stiff and proper when he spoke and it felt like a sharp stab to my core. His letters, though few and far between in the past years, had never given me any indication that this is what would greet me when he finally came home. And it wasn't temporary. He'd risen to the rank of Sergeant in the Army. Spent three years fighting battles all over France and it had hardened him, made him into a man I didn't recognize. I tried my hardest to see passed it, but every moment spent in his presence became painful and uncomfortable and I began to drift farther away from him. He never spoke of our future again and eventually took up with some less than savory folks whose only common interest was their intense hatred of the English. I pulled further away from him and began doing my own thing. My father hired me as his secretary in the bank. Something that started me on my own path. It wasn't until January of 1919 that he came around again, at my parent's funeral.

The mourners had been invited to the house after church and though there was not a family member to be found from either side, the large house I had grown up in was still crowded. Mrs. Roark and some other women from the neighborhood had put out numerous platters on the dining room table and allowed people to help themselves rather than put the burden of being a hostess on my 21 year old shoulders. Michael found me in my father's study, slouching in his desk chair, numb and exhausted from the last thirty-six hours.

"My condolences." He spoke from the doorway.

I nodded in his direction, but said nothing. He came into the room further, shutting the door behind him and came to lean against the desk next to me. I shifted uneasily in his presence, but again kept silent.

"I was thinking…well that we should revisit the idea of marrying."

At that I did look up, bewildered for certain. "I'm sorry?"

"You're alone. Your parents are dead, your father's brother is dead. There is no one to look after you."

His words brought on a fresh round of tears. "If you're trying to make me feel better, you're failing."

"I'm trying to reason with you. Marriage makes sense. I could take care of you. My father pays me well at the shop and we could live here."

"What?"

"There's plenty of room for children."

"Children?"

"There'll be time enough to talk about that, Kathleen." He reached for me, but I pulled away.

"I don't want to marry you." I said. "I don't love you."

If my words hurt him at all, he didn't show it. "Love doesn't mean much. My parents didn't marry for love."

"Well mine did."

At that he snorted in laughter. "They must have. There's no way a Irishman would marry and English whore just because."

His remark was rewarded with a hard slap across the face from me. "How dare you!"

"Come now, Kathleen the woman hated me." He rubbed his jaw, but seemed otherwise unfazed by my actions. "She shooed me off of the doorstep enough times for me to figure that out."

"That gives you the right to refer to her like that? She didn't hate you! She worried about me, nothing more!"

His face went dark then, "I take it you never told her about your first kiss then did you? I hope you remember it as fondly as I do." The words seethed from his lips and in a quick moment he was in front of me, his hands clamping down on my arms as tight as a vice. "You remember that don't you?"

When I didn't answer directly, petrified by fear he shook me and said louder "Don't you?!"

I swallowed back. "Yes."

"What is the meaning of this?" The sound of Mrs. Roark's voice pulled Mickey back to earth and he immediately released me and turned to her, shame written all over his face. He paused for a moment before fleeing the room, rushing passed my angry housekeeper in fear. From that day on I avoided him. I hated him and blamed not only the war, but the group of men he was surrounding himself with.

That was why I had blown up at Tom. That was why for a mere moment I wanted to hate him. Mickey was now the very basis of my nightmares, not just for that moment after my parent's death, but for others that I couldn't even think of without being overwrought with guilt and devastation. But when Tom kissed me there on the bench, the bright moonlight cascading down upon us I found relief I had sought for years and I forgot all of it. I wanted to open my heart to him. I wanted to tell him why some men of the IRA made me sick to my stomach, who David was, how much I loved him and how he was ripped from my arms by a petty jealous boy.

I couldn't though. I was forbidden to do any of that. Instead I let him kiss me and then let him sit with his arm around me for a long moment after, my head resting on his shoulder. Eventually we lost track of the time and Tom spoke up.

"We should go back inside."

As we approached the house I noticed that the doors we had come out of had been closed. He opened one for me and allowed me to step back into the library first, however it wasn't until he stepped in after me and shut the door did I notice Lord Grantham standing near one of the sofa's, poker faced and staring directly at us.

"Ms. Byrne, I believe my daughter was looking for you." His voice was cool and immediately set the guilt afire within me. I looked at Tom who was standing straight and tall next to me, his eyes almost challenging his father in law. I said nothing more and went to the door, feeling like I should apologize, but didn't. Tom was still in his place when I turned around to shut the door behind me, seemingly ready for battle.


	11. Chapter 11

_Tom_

"What in God's name has gotten into you?" Robert demanded of me the moment the door shut behind Kate.

"Nothing has gotten into me." I told him steadily.

He stared at me and shook his head in disbelief. "It was Carson that brought it to my attention. I hadn't even realized you were still outside alone with Ms. Byrne. In fact I assumed you had both retired to your respective rooms for the night." He turned back to me. "It isn't at all proper. She's young and she's unmarried."

"Nothing happened."

"You had bloody well hope it didn't. You've lived here for a good amount of time, Tom, I shouldn't have to explain the expectations to you. We do what's right, we do what's expected of us, we do not go off gallivanting on the grounds with lovely young women who are near strangers to us!"

"What happened between us was just friendly conversation that pertained mostly to our homeland." I informed him in a near mocking tone. "She is lovely, I'll agree with you there, but that's all I agree with. She is smart and educated, if she felt at all compromised I have no doubt she would have come inside on her own."

He whirled on me, "Do you think this is funny? In my day-"

"It's not your day though is it? Things are different and have been for quite some time. Myself, I prefer it this way. I prefer not having to live by a rigid and downright stupid set of rules!"

"You'll not make a mockery of this! I have accepted you as my daughter's husband, my son-in-law and as a member of this family. You have proven yourself worthy and competent of your position as manager of this estate, but I won't let you make a fool of yourself and of my daughter!" he moved in closer to me "What do you know of this girl besides the fact that she's Irish born and an orphan?"

Truthfully, I didn't know much more than that and there was no way I could counter his argument with the bits and pieces of life story she had given me not fifteen minutes before outside. "Why does it matter?" I asked, "You were singing her praises only hours ago in the dining room."

"As a person." He told me pointedly, "As a friend of my daughters. Not as a wife to you and mother to my granddaughter." The remark almost kicked my legs out from under me. I watched him turn away from me, facing the fire that raged in the hearth.

"Nothing happened." I told him again, "Nothing of consequence anyway. She's leaving in the morning and I'm sure that will be the end of it all." I lied. I lied through my teeth. I had every intention of making sure that we saw one another again.

He looked back to me then, taking in what I had said and then nodded. "Right, you're right."

The defeat in his voice was painfully lucid and without thinking I walked over to him, coming to a stop beside him, facing the flames. The night had gone cooler since we had gone out earlier and it was a welcome warmth.

"Three years. In some ways it doesn't seem as if it has been that long and then in others…" his voice choked and then he stopped speaking all together. I knew then this whole thing was about me or Kate at all, it was about Sybil. And then I was hit with an overwhelming flood of guilt. The same guilt that had lingered since she had been taken from me. The guilt that said it was all my fault. It renewed the blame I put on myself that I kept locked in the darkest corner of my mind that said she would still be here if it weren't for me. She would be healthy, happy and alive if I hadn't gotten her pregnant.

_"Tom." She said from the doorway to our small bedroom. We had just come from my parent's home, it was a dark winter night and our small flat was warm and comfortable against the bitter cold outside._

_I looked over at her as I sat on the bed to remove my shoes. "What is it?"_

_"I have some news."_

_I stopped what I was doing. "Is everything all right?"_

_She smiled coyly. "Oh yes, fine." She came into the room further and stood in front of me. She had only recently cut her hair in a stylish bob and I was still taken a bit by surprise when I saw it. "Tom." She said my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. I saw an amused smile on her face and then she spoke, but it sounded as if she mumbled at first._

_"What?" I asked._

_She said it again, but still I couldn't seem to understand._

_"I'm going to have a baby." She said again a little louder and that time, I finally heard her. I looked at her, looked down at the floor, out the window, back to her. I was confused. She laughed again. "Will you say something?"_

_"A baby?"_

_She nodded. "A baby."_

_"A baby?" I asked again, completely confused._

_"Shall I explain to you how it happened?" she reached down and took my hand, bringing it to her middle, "I didn't put it there myself, I assure you."_

_My eyes focused on the placement of my hand. Though her middle was still flat, I was hit with an instant understanding. A baby! We were going to have a baby! I was on my feet within a half second and had her in my arms the next. She laughed as I kissed her at least a thousand times before I set her back on the ground._

_"You're pleased then?"_

_"Yes. This is the best news!"_

_She beamed and kissed me once again._

As I stared at the fire, the memory of that night running through my head, the guilt now overwhelming I realized the extent of what I had allowed to happen over the last few days. I had betrayed her life, her death, her memory, without even realizing it. Just an hour ago I sat outside with another woman in my arms and kissed her, with the house my wife had grown up in in the background. What kind of person did that?

_Kate_

I should have gone upstairs to my room after I left the library. How could I have been so weak and stupid to let something like that happen? I want to scream at Edith for setting up the situation and so rather than going to my room I went to find her instead. I went back to the drawing room, expecting her to be there, but was startled to find only the Dowager Countess. I stammered in greeting her, but she waved a hand up to stop me.

"I had been hoping I would get a moment to speak with you, Miss Byrne. Take a seat."

"My Lady?"

"Concerning your mother."

At that I did as I was told and took the chair next to her, feeling the rock hard ball form in my throat. Somehow I knew this was coming.

"She was English, you say?"

"Yes."

"But Beaumont wasn't really her last name was it?"

I hesitated before I answered, "No."

She seemed satisfied with my truthfulness and turned the elegant cane in her head with delicate fingers. "What made you choose that name then?"

"It was the one she told people." I replied honestly.

"She was English then? Truthfully?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"And you know who she was really was?"

I hesitated before I nodded. After she had died the letter she had written to me had been found in a chest at the foot of her bed, safely in cased in a protestant bible. It had told me how she had met my father, how they had fallen in love and eventually married in secret. The letter indicated she had intended to tell me many times over, but that every time she had tried to, she just couldn't. I looked up at the matronly woman, not feeling at all challenged by the look on her face. "Her name was Josephine Ashford."

She nodded as if she had already known that. "The Earl of Redfield's daughter."

I nodded again, realizing solemnly, I was letting a large part of my life slip away from secrecy. "How did you know?"

"You favor your grandmother."

I looked up quickly, "Do I? You knew her?"

She gave a nod. "She was older than me, but we moved in the same circles before we married. She's dead now. Before the war I heard though I didn't go to the funeral." She paused a moment. "It was said that your mother died of typhoid. Did you know that?"

"Yes."

"Rather than face the scandal of their daughter eloping they said she was dead."

"But you knew the truth."

"There were rumors." She told me. "That she had fallen in love with her father's steward and married him in secret. I'm afraid this old memory of mine couldn't put the pieces together until tonight. Redfield was a stern man. Not one to be crossed. He's dead now too. Your uncle holds the title though I hear he isn't all that different from his father."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. My mother had said as much in her letter. I believed the words she used to describe her father were "monster" and "tyrant". I had no desire to know any of them.

"Does my granddaughter know who you are?"

"No, my lady, no one does." Well one did know, but it didn't matter much now that he was dead himself.

"I find your story interesting, Miss Byrne. You seem to be quite the enigma."

"I do not enjoy it. I can assure you."

"I am quite sure of that. I am also sure there is more to the story that you're still keeping to yourself."

I didn't answer.

The door opened then and Mr. Carson appeared to let Lady Grantham know her car was ready for her. She rose with his help and started for the door. I stood out of politeness. "I hope your trip back to London is a safe one, Miss Byrne." She said.

"Thank you, my lady."

"You can dispense with the "My Lady's", Dear. They are no longer necessary."

And with that she was out the door. When it was closed securely behind her I collapsed back into the chair and put my palms to my face. The last few hours had been unbelievably emotional and full of revelations I would have rather kept guarded. And Tom? God, I couldn't even think properly on that one. Why did I ever accept Edith's invitation here? I should have just stayed in London, safe in my flat far away from Yorkshire.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

_Kate_

"You're not terribly angry with me, are you?" Edith asked from the chair near the window the next morning. She was prim and pretty in her peach colored dress, but her face was etched with genuine concern.

I turned away from the wardrobe where I had removed the last of my clothes and shut it, putting the scarf in the suitcase on the bed. "I'm not angry." I told her honestly. "I wish you wouldn't have done it, but—"

"I thought." She paused. "Oh I don't know what I thought. You two just seemed to suit. I looked at you both and saw perfect matches for a puzzle."

"You don't need to play matchmaker for me." I snapped the suitcase shut. "I know you're happy with your editor and of course I'm glad for you, but I don't need someone to make me happy. I've gotten this far on my own."

"Kate, you can't tell me there wasn't anything there."

I stopped what I was doing and looked off. I wouldn't admit it out loud, I could barely admit to myself, but of course there was. Of course I couldn't deny the fact that I felt instant joy whenever I saw him or even thought of him. Last night on that bench I felt a closeness with him I hadn't felt since David. I wanted to pour my heart out to him, every last secret, every last skeleton. When he had kissed me I was swept up on a warm comforting wave. I didn't want that moment to end. Then when we had come back inside and seen Lord Grantham there, cold eyes upon us. The guilt hit me head on and the pain from it still lingered. The conversation with Lady Grantham hadn't helped either. I felt open and exposed now and every minute I spent in this house now stung sharp and raw.

"There wasn't." I finally answered. "I've made a friendly acquaintance. That's all."

A footman came into the room then, taking the suitcase from the bed silently and then leaving the room just as quickly as he had come in. Sweet Grace had already been in to help me get ready that morning and we had exchanged a nice good bye. She said she hoped I would be back soon. I highly doubted I would.

Edith waited until we were alone again before raising her eyebrows at me. "Acquaintance?"

"That is what I said. Shall we go downstairs?" I reached for my coat and checked myself in the mirror, adjusting the large blue bow at the center of long v neck on my blouse. Edith rose from her seat, defeated and I followed her down the stairs.

When we reached the landing I saw Sybbie and her nurse standing in the hall. The nurse was bent down, buttoning the little girls sweater and to her credit, the child waited until she was finished before rushing over to me. I knelt down and squeezed her tight. She brought the first honest smile to my face of the day. I was going to miss her terribly.

"Are you going home?"

"I am."

"Do you have a big house like this?"

I laughed, "I don't, but it's only me and my typewriter. We don't need much room." She nodded and fingered the button on her sweater. Her face showed a baby like roundness when she put her chin to her chest. It was so sweet and gave me a quick glimpse into what she must have looked like as an infant. "Are you sad that I'm leaving?" I then asked.

She nodded.

"How about we make a plan to see one another then. You could come to London with Aunt Edith, perhaps? We'll have tea and go to the zoo and maybe…"I learned in closer, whispering, "We could even get some ice cream."

She pulled away and beamed at me, nodding excitedly.

"But it's a secret for now. Just the two of us know…and Aunt Edith." I looked up at Edith who smiled at her niece and I in acknowledgement.

"I won't tell." She promised and then gave me a fierce hug. "I love you." She whispered and my heart melted in a big puddle. I had to brush away a tear quickly before she pulled away. She then ran back to her nurse and I rose only to be startled by the site of Tom standing in front of me. He must have walked in just moments before. Edith saw him too.

"I'm going to find Carson and make sure everything is ready." She said from behind me, though I didn't look back at her. I heard her footsteps leave the hall and head for another room, leaving Tom and I alone in the large open room.

"I wanted to see you before you left." He said. I noticed he looked as tired as I surely did. His voice was deep and it filled me with trepidation.

"Well here I am." I replied, forcing myself to sound as normal as possible.

He nodded. "I should apologize to you. Last night…well it was wrong of me to put you in such a situation. There's no excuse for it and I regret it now."

I swallowed hard. He was trying to put me aside. It didn't matter then that I had woken up that morning intending to do the same to him, I felt the hurt coming all the same. He spoke more. I couldn't comprehend what he was saying, but the meaning of it was clear. Numbly I nodded when it seemed appropriate, arguing silently with myself against the part that was upset by this and the one that said I should have never let it get to this point in the first place.

"I am sorry. Very sorry." He mumbled.

Pulling my wits and strength together I gave him a smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine and you're right. As long as everything is fine with you and Lord Grantham than I see no reason why we can't pretend it never happened."

He looked perplexed. "Yes, it is, but—"

"That's that then." I said casually, "It was really wonderful to meet you, Mr. Branson." I was breaking on the inside. I was ready to scream, I needed to get out of here, away from Downton, away from Yorkshire and be safely inside my flat in London.

I said another rushed and clipped to goodbye to him, not really looking at him and not really listening either and turned around, finding Edith in a moment and saying courteous good-byes to Lady Grantham and Mary who appeared from the Drawing Room. It was only when I stepped out of the front doors a moment later that I turned around. I could still see him in the very spot I had left him. Hands in pockets, staring directly at me. The brief thought that I had done the wrong thing crossed my mind, but I quickly dashed it. I couldn't let myself think things like that. If there was any hope from protecting myself against heartache it was banishing thoughts like that from my mind. I would not be left again, I would not allow myself to be broken and left alone ever again. This was for the best, just as I said to him and it should remain as such, so I looked away and got into the car.

It was for the best.

It was raining when we arrived back in London. Edith's Aunt Rosamond had sent a car for her that she gladly pulled me into and instructed me to tell the driver my address. "I won't let you walk around in this rain to find a cab on your own" she told me as we started on our way. "Though I don't understand why you won't come back to Aunt Rosamond's with me, at least for supper."

I shook my head, wiping some of the wetness off the sleeves of my coat. "I really just want to be home. Thank you, though."

When I had first come to London I had relied on Alec and his mother for lodging, but during my second year of college I had saved enough money to move out on my own, finding a lovely little flat in the heart of Richmond. It was actually the upper floor of a rather large brick home owned by Mrs. Eliza Cochran. She had lost both her husband and son during the War and had the upstairs converted to its own separate home for a border for extra income, and also I guessed, to prevent loneliness. She opened the front door when the grand car pulled up, heedless of the rain and gave me a wave as I got out of the vehicle with the chauffeur's assistance. I said a quick goodbye and thank you to Edith, promising to see her at the office the next day and made a run for the door. As soon as myself and my luggage were safely inside, Mrs. Cochran shut the door and fussed at me to take off my coat and shoes.

"I have a stew on the stove, Dearie, some fresh bread too if you're hungry."

"I am." I answered with a smile. I followed her back into the kitchen, thankful to be home. "Has anything happened while I was gone?"

"Mrs. Granger next door and poor Mr. Granger have had a few rows you'll be glad you missed." She said, pulling a bowl from the cupboard and ladling a hefty serving of stew into it. I slid into a seat at the worn oak table, "And Johnny from across the street came over to replace the frayed clothes line. Not that it matters in this weather." She placed the bowl in front of me with a chuck of bread beside it. "How was Yorkshire?"

I laughed. Mrs. Cochran wasn't too big a fan of the aristocracy. She called them pompous and spoiled. "Not as pompous as you would imagine." I told her and tasted the soup, relishing in its warm comfort. The food at Downton had been wonderful, but this was more to my liking.

"Those Crawley's weren't mean to ye, were they?"

"Not at all." I told her after taking another bite. "They were very kind, but not overly so."

"Well that's good. I don't mind telling you I was worried. All alone there with a bunch of Lords and Ladies."

"I was fine, I promise."

I didn't tell her anything else though. Not about Tom or Sybbie, who weren't exactly a Lord or a Lady. Instead I finished my dinner, talked with her a bit more about the going ons in the neighborhood and then went upstairs, carrying my suitcases to my door. I dropped them by the bed when I was finally alone. Telling myself I would unpack later.

I took a long around the small room. It was no Downton, but it was precious to me for it was my very own. Nearly everything in it was mine, paid for with my own money. When I had come from Ireland I had only two suitcases with me, the very two that were sitting on the floor at my feet then. Everything that I had acquired since then had been mostly by my own means. I thought of how much I had changed since then. It was nearly Christmas '20 when I arrived in London. Alec had insisted upon it. "You can't stay here. It will kill you." He had said and I knew he was right. He had bought me passage on the next ship to Liverpool. From there I took the train to London where his mother, Lady Lacey met me at the station. She was by herself since her husband, Alec's father had passed and took me into her home with open arms. If I lived to be one hundred, I still wouldn't be able to thank them enough for the kindness they had shown me. Not just comfort and a place to stay, but also encouraging me to take care of myself, helping me find a job, go to University... I knew I wouldn't have made it without them.

I was back at the office the next day. Edith hadn't arrived yet, but I knew she had planned to. I had plenty of notes on my desk to keep me busy not to mention the request of Mr. Gregson to outline an article on Vladimir Lenin who had apparently suffered another stroke and had given up his position as the leader of the Soviet government. I planned to go to the library later on to do a bit of research on the Russian government for that one.

I stayed busy all morning. I had to. I would have lost my mind if I let it wander for even a moment. I refused to acknowledge the large gaping hole in my heart that Tom Branson had put there.

A knock on the door came and I turned away from the typewriter to see one of the secretaries through the window. I motioned for her to open the door. "Lucy?"

"I'm sorry, but there's a man waiting for you in the waiting room." She said, adjusting the thick rimmed glasses on her nose.

I rose, it couldn't be Tom could it? Would he…

"Mr. Edgecomb he said his name was." She then said, dashing all of my hope.

I went out of the office quickly though, finding Alec, blonde and handsome, casually seated in the otherwise empty room. "Hello there." I greeted.

He smiled and stood, "Hello Stranger," and strode toward me, placing a kiss on my cheek. "It's about time you made your way back. The secretary has been telling me you were gone all last week."

"Just a little holiday. What are you doing here?"

"I came to offer you lunch, if you're interested."

I smiled, realizing it was after noon and I was a tiny bit hungry. "I am. Just let me get my coat and tell Lucy where I'm going."

A half hour later I found myself sitting across the table from him at the Cumberland Hotel, watching a waiter pour water into our glasses. When he was gone, Alec reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a yellow envelope and slid it across the fine linen of the table. I picked it up and looked at him in question.

"What is it?"

"They found him." He told me solemnly.

I felt my breath choke in my throat and knew the color was draining from me. "Mickey?"

He nodded. "I have a friend at Scotland Yard. They found him three weeks ago somewhere outside Edinburgh."

"Scotland?"

He nodded again "He's been taken back to Dublin, most likely he's already arrived. They'll keep him there until a trial can be set up. He won't admit it to it still so there will have to be another investigation." He leaned in closer. "You know what that means don't you?"

I was numb and could barely hold my gaze on him. "What?"

"Kate, you're going to have to go back. They're going to want to speak with you. In all honesty I'm sure they already know where you are and have been content to leave you alone these past few years, but you'll need to tell your story again, to a jury this time."

"If I don't want to?"

"That might not be an option."

All I once I felt both nauseous and panicked. I let the envelope fall from my hand onto the table and made tight fists with both of my hands to ward off the imminent shaking. I took a deep breath, and then another and another.

Across the table Alec watched in sympathy. He didn't enjoy telling me this news any more than I liked hearing it.

"I don't want to relive it," I told him softly. "I don't think I can."

"He killed your husband, Kate. You need to find the strength to." Hands came down on mine and gripped them and my eyes rose to his, "You need to fight for David."


	13. Chapter 13

_Two Weeks Later_

_Tom_

I should have been paying attention to Matthew and Robert. Something was being discussed about the estate. Maintenance for some machinery perhaps, I was not sure. I couldn't keep my focus on much of anything lately. With spring in full swing now, the weather warmer, the crops growing, I should have had plenty to keep my fill, but I couldn't. Nothing proved a big enough distraction. Even my active almost 3 year old was no help. That may have been because she was almost constantly speaking of the very person that was causing all of my problems.

"Are we done here then?" Robert asked, sitting back in his desk chair.

Matthew, next to me on the sofa, nodded and shut the roster and handed it to me. "I believe that's all. Tom?"

"Yes." I said, eager to leave.

"I'll need to drive to Ripon this afternoon." Matthew spoke up, standing, "Speak with a solicitor. Tom would you like to join me?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to take Sybbie into the village."

"Edith is due on the train at 3." Robert replied, "And she's bringing that editor with her. Make sure you're both back for dinner. I'm not sure I can carry on a conversation with him on my own."

Matthew and I both cracked smiles at that. A short while later I had fetched Sybbie from the nursery and was headed out the front door with her. It was a beautiful day out and she ran ahead of me on the gravel enjoying the warmth and sunshine. Her dark curls bounced behind her and caught myself smiling at her innocence. The walk to the village was a short one, but walking with a toddler always made it slightly longer. She stopped randomly along the side of the road, inspecting whatever caught her attention. A few times she found a perfect wildflower to pick, another she swore she saw a deer or a rabbit and pulled me over to see for myself. Both creatures eluded me though.

When we finally made it to village she jumped onto the sidewalk and skipped down until she reached Mrs. Southerland's bakery and stopped to stare intently through the window on tiptoes. I caught up to her and saw that she was focused on a stack of chocolate chip cookies in the window. "Would you like one?"

"Mrs. Patmore's are good." She observed and I held back a laugh knowing that Mrs. Patmore herself probably had something to do with that statement.

I leaned down and whispered, "I won't tell her if you don't."

She turned and smiled at me. A smile of amazement so much like Sybil's and nodded her head. "Okay."

We went inside and placed our order. Mrs. Southerland was behind the counter, but it was her daughter Beatrice that took our order. She was young, I wouldn't say more than twenty and seemed to always have a smile on her face when I was around. Sybbie took the cookie from her and took a small bite while I pulled the money out of my wallet and set it on the counter.

"And how are you, Mr. Branson?" her smile and voice were thick with flirtation and I found myself hiding the flinch it gave me.

I gave her a polite smile. "Just fine, Miss Southerland."

She smiled back and leaned down on the counter, relaxing against it and surely realizing she was showing off the low cut neckline of her dress. Quickly I turned to back to my daughter. "Come along, Sybbie." Munching on her cookie, she happily obliged and went towards the door. "Thank you, Mrs. Southerland, Miss Southerland." I muttered, not really looking back and left the shop as fast as I could without it looking suspicious.

Is that the way women were acting these days? I liked to think of myself as a rather progressive person, but that I could surely do without. Sybil hadn't been like that and Kate…Lord help me, there she was again. I sighed. Nearly every second of the past two weeks, always on my mind, always distracting me. I could kick myself for saying what I had to her. She had taken it far too well. Of course I hadn't been expecting a dramatic fit of hysteria, but Lord smiling and calling me "Mr. Branson" felt like a knife to the gut.

When I had done it had made since at the time, but now, two weeks later without site or word from her, I wasn't so sure it had been "for the best" as she had put it. I missed talking to her, seeing her laugh or watching her get riled up over a subject she cared about. Less than a week she had been at Downton and yet she had managed to instill memories like those on me. What I missed most of all though…kissing her. God, her lips, her scent, the way she sent my heart racing, clouded my mind… every last part of it I missed and craved. She was igniting thoughts in me that had been dormant for quite some time. Thoughts that were desperate to break free from the dark corner of my mind I had been keeping them in.

I needed to see her.

_Kate_

I drummed my fingers against the surface of the table, staring intently at the unopened envelope that I had just received in the mail. The neatly typed return address in the corner didn't bode well. I saw it was from Dublin. I saw the name of an office I didn't recognize, but I knew what they wanted. Alec was right. They wanted to speak to me. My presence was being requested in a formal letter which meant there was no turning back once I opened the envelope.

How had it all come to this? I had thought about it several thousand times over the past few years of my life, but I was still no closer to understanding it. The person I was today, no matter how successful I might seem from the outside, was actually a broken and scared woman, who feared not only becoming close to others, but also opening envelopes.

"David…"I whispered into the empty room, "Why did this happen?"

_He asked me to marry him at sunset in Phoenix Park at the Furry Glen on June the 21st. At that time I had only know him for three months, but that hadn't stopped me from throwing my arms around him and saying Yes. The ring he had slipped on my finger was a beautiful white gold band with an intricate floral setting around its hexagonal solitaire diamond. I was moved to tears when I saw it for it was absolutely perfect._

_"Tears aren't what I expected." He teased, running a hand along my cheek._

_"I can't help it." I said, smiling through them, "I've never seen anything more beautiful."_

_"As cliché as it sounds, I feel the same about you." He replied and he kissed me deeply. "You'll never want for anything." He then said, "I will make you the happiest wife, I swear it to you."_

_I pulled my eyes away from the ring and locked them on his. "And I'll make you the happiest husband."_

_"So long as you don't cook." He joked, referring to a moment a few weeks before that pertained to burnt soda bread and a questionable tasting stew._

_I laughed softly, "No cooking, I swear it."_

_He wrapped his arms snuggly around me and kissed me again, the sky above us darkening to welcome the evening. I sank my face into his shoulder, breathing in his wonderful masculine scent, taking note of my surroundings so I could remember the moment forever. "How long will you make me wait then?"_

_"Not very."_

_"You know why I'm anxious." He lowered his voice to seductive, teasing tone that make quiver in his arms._

_I pulled away with a sly smile on my face. "Is that the only reason you asked?"_

_He gave me his most unserious smile. "Because you won't let me take you to bed otherwise? Of course it is." I rolled my eyes at that, but he pulled me back into his arms and gave me sound, passionate kiss that pushed away all of the playfulness from our conversation. "It's all been worth it. The sleepless nights you've given me, the number of times you've driven me quite close to madness, come our wedding night, it will have all been worth it."_

_I had to kiss himself myself for that or risk losing myself in a fit of tears again. The kiss went on and on until a constable with a flashlight approached us shaking his head and telling us to go home._

The memory was overwhelming and I found myself reaching across the table for a hand to hold, one that wasn't there. I recoiled as I realized it wasn't David I had been wanting to be there, but Tom. I suddenly craved the comfort his presence offered. What had I been thinking pushing him away like that? Eagerly agreeing to let him end whatever it was that had been developing between us?

I cursed my stupidity and my fears. That was really all it boiled down to. He was wonderful, truly wonderful and now there was no chance…

I sighed and reached for the letter opener, slitting open the envelope, deciding that no matter what I did it wasn't going to get any better anyhow.

"Lady Kathleen Wyatt," it read, "You are summoned."

_Tom_

Edith had been very preoccupied at dinner that evening and in the drawing room after with Mr. Gregson, but I did manage to pull her aside when he went off to refill his drink.

"If you're going to ask me about Kate, I already have an answer for you." She whispered, "She has been her same sunny self at the office since she came back. Overly sunny if you want my opinion however. She's hiding something."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You two, I swear…"

"I want to see her."

That took her off guard. "Do you?"

"Yes."

Her smile told me she was very pleased with my both my answer and my enthusiasm. "Well, she did promise Sybbie an outing in the city didn't she?" she gave me a coy, secretive look, "Let's see what we can plan, shall we?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

I had never really been much of an artist. My mother had been and on more than one occasion had attempted to teach me the fundamentals, but every session always ended in frustration on both of our parts. All of that was a distant memory when I woke up at 3 on Saturday morning and sat down at my typewriter and began to bang on the keys with a fury. On each page I left room for a picture and when the ink was dry, took the stack to the table in my sitting room, grabbed a can of colored pencils and immediately began to illustrate the story I had written. As each picture came to life I thought to myself how proud my mother would have been. Though she preferred oils rather than pencils, she had been known to sketch on occasion and I knew she would have appreciated my work because of it.

What had made me wake up and start writing? And illustrate no less? Sybbie. The urge to put the stories to paper I had told her had pulled me from my sleep. With all that was going on and my trip to Dublin to meet with the investigators and Mickey's trial looming, I welcomed the artistic distraction. There were at least twenty sheets of paper in front of me, that's how furiously the impulse had taken me. I had drawn pink and green fairies in the margins, below the words, beside them. Some had golden locks that flowed behind their wings, some with dark curls like hers. My hands were smudged with ink and graphite, but as the sun was coming up and I looked over my work with appreciation I regretted nothing. Carefully I put the pages in order and punched holes in the sides before binding them with the twine I kept in the desk drawer. When I was finished I set the book on the desk and smiled to myself.

It was almost mad how much I missed that little girl. She was all innocence and love and her zest for life filled my heart to the brim. I realized the mistakes I had made with her father, mistakes that would probably never mend, but by making this for her, I'd hope she'd understand how valuable her part in my life had played. Or at the very least, realize it when she was old enough to understand such things.

Later that morning, after I had bathed and dressed, I went down stairs and found Mrs. Cochran in the front hall, her weekly dusting of the house already in full swing. She bid me a good morning and directed me to the kitchen where I found a fresh pot on the stove and made myself some tea. I felt like it was going to be a good day. And after all that had happened in the past few weeks, I was ready for it. Alec had made arrangements for the two of us to travel to Dublin the Monday after next. My presence was "needed" as the investigator had put it in his letter to me and Alec, ever the protective friend, had flat out refused to let me go alone.

"You don't have to look after me." I had told him.

In reply he had given me his perfected haughty "Sir Alec Edgecomb stare" and informed me I had no choice in the matter. "Mother insists and I make it a point never to cross the woman."

The statement had made me smile and that was the end of that for him. He had been my savior, my guardian since the moment of David's death. Never had he made any suggestions to be anything other than my friend, which made our relationship all the more comfortable. I was expecting him this afternoon. He had promised the day before to come around and take me for tea and, I imagined, to discuss more about the investigation and trial that was upon us.

The doorbell rang and pulled me away from the tea cup and my thoughts. I could hear Mrs. Cochran upstairs now and rose to answer it out of politeness. I walked down the hall from the kitchen to the front door swiftly and opened it without looking out of the window.

The person I saw before me on the front step nearly knocked me backwards.

"Tom?" I realized only after the fact that I had referred to him by his first name.

He smiled and then I noticed Sybbie at his side, her smile though similar was wider and full of excitement. She wiggled from her father's hand and move towards me at full speed. Wrapping herself around my legs.

"Katie!" she exclaimed, looking up at me with a grin that was contagious. I bent down and took her up in my arms where she promptly kissed me on my cheek. "We came on a train to see you. Woo Woo!" she mimicked the train sound loudly and Tom moved forward to quiet her.

"Inside voice." He reminded her. She listened, but still looked at me happily.

"Is this your house?"

"Sort of…" I managed to say before she pushed herself down from my arms and wandered into the hall. She didn't go into the parlor, but did look in.

"Kate," Mrs. Cochran's voice sailed down from the landing and I looked up to see her moving down to us. "We have company. Why didn't you warn me?"

"I'm afraid that's my fault, ma'am." Tom spoke up before I could, "My daughter and I intended to surprise, Kate."

She looked at him closely, giving him a long once over before replying, "Irish eh? Are you visiting from Ireland?"

I quickly cut in. "I met Mr. Branson and his daughter in Yorkshire, Mrs. Cochran. He's Lady Edith's brother in law."

"Brother-in-law? Where is your wife?"

"Mrs. Cochran-" I was aghast.

"I'm a widower, ma'am."

I wasn't sure what she was about, but his answer seemed to satisfy her. She nodded to the two of us, "Well then come in this house and make yourself comfortable." He did as he was told and she shut the door behind him. "May I get you anything to drink?" she then asked him.

"No, thank you." He answered.

"Well I'll leave you be then. And watch the child, the parlor was just dusted." And with that she was back up the stairs.

I looked at Tom and apologized. "She's really very nice, she just doesn't always seem that way."

He cracked a smile. "I didn't come here to see her."

"Why did you come?" I then asked. Truthfully I was curious.

"For the tea party." Sybbie answered. "And going to the park _and_ to the see the Kings castle. Oh and the ice cream."

I looked at her, for a moment forgetting about the promises I had made to her at Downton. Meanwhile Tom laughed. "That's exactly why." He then turned to me, "So get your hat. We'll wait."

"I—"

Sybbie was at my side then, reaching for my hand. "I want strawberries on my ice cream."

The completely random request made me smile and a quick look showed me that Tom had seen it. I knew I was caught and there was no way to say No. "All right, wait here a moment." I went up the stairs and to my rooms where I found a straw hat, some gloves and my handbag. I came back down the stairs a moment later to Sybbie jumping up and down.

Tom had a cab waiting outside that we all clamored into, Sybbie claiming the spot between myself and the window. Tom sat the opposite of us and told the driver to take us to the Royal Botanic Garden. We spent most of the ride in silence, though Sybbie did ask questions from time to time. For the most part she seemed too excited to say much of anything though and sat up on her knees to look out of the window. Occasionally a harsh stop or bump in the road would send my hand up to keep her still, but she didn't let it deter her. All of the while Tom's eyes were on me, smiling and happy. I couldn't help but smile back. Something was different. I felt comfortable, relaxed and…like I was where I should be.

When we reached the park, the driver helped both Sybbie and I out and stood by while Tom paid him. The little girl took my hand eagerly and led us down the cement walk that led into the park. One of the ponds was before us and a pack of unsuspecting geese were grazing around it. She ran toward them, releasing my hand and squealed with delight when they fled in the opposite direction.

"Mind the water…and mud!" my voice carried to her, but I doubt she heard it. Tom came up beside me and shook his head.

"Your words have fallen on deaf ears. Don't you know there is a magnetic attraction between 3 year olds and messes?"

I looked over at him. "I was a very clean child."

"I'm sure you were." He said with a mocking grin. "Listened to every word your Ma said."

"Of course." I answered, though this time with a bit of humor. I realized what he was doing.

He laughed and I caught myself staring wistfully into his eyes when he took my hand within his and held it tight. The smile and laughter faded away from us and was replaced with a serious, intense look. "I take it back." He said after a moment, his voice deep, serious and full of sentiment. "Everything that I said the day you left, I take it back. Not talking to you, not seeing you these past few weeks has been harder than I ever imagined. We missed you, her and I." he motioned in Sybbie's direction, but I didn't have to look that way to know what he meant. Still, there were no words I could find to properly convey my feelings so I smiled and squeezed his hand, silently accepting his words and reciprocating them.

He understood and gazed into my eyes for another moment before leaning in to whisper. "If we were anywhere else, I would kiss you right now."

My heart fluttered and I felt myself blush deeply at the thought. It was thankfully that Sybbie chose that moment to run back up to us, her shoes smudged and her hair bow in disarray to tell us the geese were cross with her. Our gazes parted, but his hand remained in mine as he responded to her. We then decided to take a walk around the lake before going for ice cream. The whole time my hand remained snuggly and comfortably in his. As we took in the sites and let Sybbie run to her hearts content, I was tempted more than once to lean into his shoulder, to catch the scent of him and feel his arm come around me, but I remembered where we were and who was with us and resisted.

There was a restaurant across the street from the park that served ices and ice cream. Sybbie picked a strawberry sundae while Tom and I both took tea. We talked casually as she ate, occasionally stopping to wipe away strawberry sauce from her face. He told me that they had come in from Yorkshire the day before along with Edith and were staying at Lady Rosamund's in Eaton square.

"Has she ever been to London before?" I asked, referring to Sybbie.

He shook his head, "This is the first time."

"Well then we will make it memorable one." I said then thought a moment. "So Edith knows where you are today?"

"You're asking if she knows that I'm with you and the answer is Yes. She's the one that arranged the whole thing."

I sighed and looked away. She was playing matchmaker again. This time I couldn't say I was upset with her though.

After the ice cream and tea were finished, it wasn't hard to see that a certain little girl was feeling the effects of her big day. She allowed her father to pick her up as we were leaving the restaurant and laid a head on his shoulder.

"I hate to say it, but maybe I should take her back to the house." He said to me.

"That's on the other side of the city." I told him, watching her eyes droop over his shoulder, "Bring her back to Mrs. Cochran's. It's much closer and she can take a nap in my bed."

He agreed and I went to get us a cab. Fifteen minutes later we were back at the house, which I found to be empty when I opened the door. A note from Mrs. Cochran on the entry way table told me that she had gone to a friends and wouldn't be back for several hours. I pocketed the note and led Tom, who carried a dozing Sybbie upstairs to my rooms. I opened the door for him and led him from the sitting room to the bedroom, shutting the curtains as he laid her gently down on the perfectly arranged pillows. I then grabbed a light blanket from the chest at the foot of my bed and laid it over her.

* * *

_Tom_

I watched from the doorway as Kate covered my daughter in the yellow and white irish block quilt. The fabric was worn, but clean and it fell over Sybbie's sleeping form easily. She then leaned forward and put a sweet kiss on my daughter's forehead. I couldn't deny how the sight moved me. In fact it downright stirred my heart. I had to turn away before I said anything to break the moment.

I wandered back out in Kate's small sitting room. It reminded me of her. Everything was in its place, right down to the neatly stacked sheets of papers by her typewriter on the desk. Curious, I moved over to the desk, taking in the scent of lemon polish and fresh paper and saw that the stacked pages were bound together. It seemed to be a book, but there was no title on the cover.

From behind me the bedroom shut softly and she came over to me. My body instantly became aware of her presence and I stood up straight.

"Did you read it?" she asked, looking down at the book.

"No, what is?"

She picked it up and walked over to the sofa by the door. Sitting down she opened it. "I wrote it last night."

"Last night?" I laughed, "Really?"

She chuckled. "Yes. I woke up at 3 o'clock this morning and just couldn't stop," she patted the seat next to her, I sat down as she opened it and placed it in my lap. "It's all of those fairy stories I was telling Sybbie. They were swimming around in my head and I just had to put them on paper." She turned a page, "Look, I even did some sketches." She pointed to an almost cartoon like image on the 5th page of a fairy in a green dress with flowing dark hair.

"My mother was the artist. Try as I could I could never measure up to what she could do, but I think this is rather decent, don't you?"

To answer her question. I kissed her. I slid the book to a nearby table, took her up in my arms and kissed her the way I had wanted to all morning. The way I had been dreaming of for weeks. I pressed firmly against her lips, teasing my mouth with her own, telling her this was anything but a chaste peck. There was a momentary gasp that somehow escaped through her lips, but she made no move to push me away, instead she pulled me closer, lowering herself down into the sofa and bringing me with her. She let my hands move over her, though they never lingered in one place for long. At that point I had no particular destination, I was just wanted to touch her, feel her.

Her hands moved as well, though not the way mine were. Finger tips traced a path from my arms to my face and back down again. It was a simple touch that drove me mad and I broke away to trace my own line, with my lips, down to her neck. All of the years without this kind of contact, without passion was all catching up to me in that moment. I began to move the collar of her dress aside, putting my lips lower on her neck, setting a jolt through both of us. It was then that her hands came up to stop me.

"Tom…" Her breathing was erratic and she paused to take a breath before continuing. "Give me a moment."

"I don't want to." I replied and went to take her lips again, but she stopped me.

"Please."

* * *

 

_Kate_

I didn't want to stop him, but I knew I had to.

I wondered if he could feel me shaking beneath him. My heart felt as if it was going to beat out of my chest and I was enjoying every moment of it. There hadn't been anyone since David and now…I couldn't compare the two. Neither was better than the other, but oh…he was gazing down at me and I felt then everything that I had been missing. Everything and so much more. I was falling in love with him. I was in love with him. It was insane and made no sense, but nothing ever did when it came to love did it? I laughed then and gave him a kiss of my own.

"What?" he looked at me confused.

"Nothing." I said with a smile. "Whatever it is that has happened here, it is…wonderful. And I want it."

He smiled back and brushed a thumb across my cheek. "Me too. I know there are things that you can't tell me, but I don't care. It doesn't matter to me. This is all that does and I want it. I want it more than I've wanted anything in a long time." And then he kissed the tears that his words at brought to my eyes. Our foreheads touched and we both smiled at one another, surrounded by bliss and unspoken words of love.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

_Tom_

An hour later the two of us were still on the couch though we had moved around a bit and I was now sitting up with her leaning against me, her head laying against my chest. We were enclosed in a comfortable silence and I at some point she had drifted off. My arms held her close as I listened to her perfectly patterned breaths. Having been up since 3 that morning and then chasing after my child I imagined she deserved the rest. There was no noise from the bedroom where Sybbie slept. I was the only one awake and I was enjoying it. The window in her sitting room had been left cracked open, but the only noise from outside were the wind chimes on the sill. It was perfect. A perfect moment. Small and uncomplicated, yes, but perfect none the less.

I leaned in closer, taking in the air around her sleeping form. It was smelled of soap and daffodils. It was a scent that was new, but seemed to comfort me in a way of familiarity. I knew once I left this room, went back to Rosamund's, to Downton that things would naturally complicate themselves. There was Robert to deal with for one. I knew it was his grief and self-guilt over Sybil's death that had driven him to say what he did. He didn't not like Kate, she just wasn't Sybil. I had Matthew's support. He knew where I had gone, and naturally through him Mary would know. Edith had been my co-conspirator in it all. Cora and Violet I couldn't make my mind up about.

_Ding Dong._

The sound of the doorbell stirred us both. Kate moved and opened her eyes, while I felt like punching the person who had suddenly interrupted this moment. A knock followed that carried up the stairs.

"Oh no!" Kate suddenly shot up. "I completely forgot."

"What?" I asked, but she was already out of the room, her footsteps clicking against the hard wood in the hallway.

* * *

 

_Kate_

I adjusted my hair and clothes as best as I could on the short trip from my room to the front door. Alec was standing there when I opened it and he gave me a mock of exasperation. "Fell asleep didn't you?"

I laughed nervously and pulled him in to the house. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." He replied honestly. "I can give you a half hour to get ready."

"I actually have guests." I told him.

"Oh." He answered, then took in my disheveled appearance, my flushed face and said again, with more emphasis, "Oh!"

Of course Tom chose that moment to appear at the top of the stairs. Alec being the ever polite gentleman stuck his hand out for the man I had literally just been sleeping with, and who now looked on guard and genuinely suspicious. He did take Alec's offered hand though and shook it.

"I didn't realize Kate had company." Alec said with kindness. "Alec Edgecomb." He deliberately left out the "Sir" at the beginning of his name. He did that often, not liking to throw rank around, but it didn't seem to soften Tom's face at all.

"Tom Branson." He replied.

"Nice to meet you." He turned to me. "We can get together another time if you like." He told me then back to Tom, "We're off to Dublin next week and I'm trying to prepare her for the tr—"

"Thing!" I interrupted quickly. "The thing." He couldn't know! No, I wasn't going to let that happen! Both men's heads turned to me with raised eyebrows and I immediately felt my stomach sink, knowing I was now expected to explain myself. No doubt, Alec had assumed that since Tom had just walked out of my bedroom he knew my story.

I couldn't even imagine what was going through Tom's mind…

"The thing." Alec mumbled, have question, half statement.

Tom glared at me, seeing right through the weak lie.

And then Sybbie was coming down the stairs. She was disheveled from sleep, the bow that had been in her hair was probably somewhere between the pillows on my bed. Alec saw her and seemed to embrace the distraction. "Why hello there."

She gave him a similar glare to her father's.

"I'm Alec, who are you?"

"Sybil." She answered and rubbed at an eye. Tom bent and picked her up. She laid a head on his shoulder, but didn't take her eyes off of Alec.

"It's very nice to meet you, Sybil." He said with a smile, but it was met with silence from both Branson's.

Finally after an awkward long silence Alec said, "I think I should leave."

"No, that's all right. We have to go anyway." Tom said and I felt my heart sink. Sybbie began to voice her protests, but he quitted her telling her it was time to go. Without even muttering a good-bye he carried her out the door. I felt like crying when the door shut behind them. He was angry and justly so.

Alec whirled on me the second the door shut. "What the bloody hell was that?!"

"I met him in Yorkshire." I replied quietly. "He's Lady Edith's brother in law."

He collected the pieces of information silently before saying "The widower? You started something up with him?"

"In a way…"

"Yet, you couldn't speak about your dead husband's murder trial in front of him?"

"He doesn't know." I answered weakly.

"Doesn't know what?"

I was silent before answering. "Any of it."

He stared at me wide eyed. "God damn it, Kate! He's probably thinking the worst about you and me right now! I thought you had gotten over this? I thought you had at least said something to Lady Edith."

"You know I can't tell anyone!"

"Because David's father, the very dead Duke of Anbury sent his attorney to scare you into silence? That's a weak answer. You walk around London hiding your entire real self from everyone, even using your maiden name so you can fade into the crowds, keeping the truth to yourself, not once giving any one the benefit of the doubt and trust them. The man was in your bedroom for Christ's sake!"

"Nothing happened." I half lied, "His daughter was asleep in my bed."

He nodded, though I could tell my answer wasn't accepted. "Soon enough, Kate this will be in the papers. He'll see it, the entire Crawley family and nearly all of England will see it. They'll see you aren't just some girl from Ireland, they'll see you are Lady Kathleen Wyatt, the widow of Captain Lord David Wyatt who was shot to death almost 3 years ago in Dublin."

"Stop it." I told him, unable to hold the tears back.

"I won't. I'm tired of you being a scared child about this. You are twenty-six years old and need to face your past, as terrible as it is, head on. Tell him what's going. Tell his sister-in-law. You have no family and only myself as a friend to support you. Let them into the circle you have created for yourself so you can have some form of support."

I was openly crying then. "No," I managed, "I can't say anything to them….I can't."

He stood strong against my tears, glaring down at me. "And what are you going to do when this hits the papers?"

I shook my head. I truthfully had no idea. If anyone knew how reporters could be, it was me. Yet I had still never prepared for the moment. I knew it would all come out. Who my mother was, how her and my father had eloped, how I had somehow managed to fall in love and marry the second son of a Duke all the way in Ireland, how he was murdered by my childhood friend…I had never prepared for it and now that it was on the cusp, I knew the fallout from it would be a harsh one.

_"You're who?" I asked._

_David was wholly serious and exposed as he faced me in the sitting room of the house in Sutton. Mrs. Roark was elsewhere and though it was a warm summer night and the windows were open, I felt a chill come about me in the room._

_"My father is a duke." He told me plainly. "My father, not me. And with my older brother healthy and married with two sons, I can promise you that I never will be."_

_I stared at him in shock and disbelief._

_"I did what was expected of a second son, I joined the army and I've made a good life for myself where I get no assistance from him. I have no title other than Lord or Captain, no responsibilities other than the army."_

_I found my words then. "You've courted me, asked me to marry you…and never made any mention of this. I told you about my mother, I told you she was and still you said nothing."_

_"Yeah, that was bad."_

_"What?"_

_"Look, in the beginning I didn't tell you because I wanted so desperately to know you. You would hardly give me the time of day because I was English, telling you I was nobility then would have just made it worse."_

_"Alec knows?"_

_"Of course Alec knows, he's my best friend. His father was a knight. He has the title now." He paused. "Kate, believe me I didn't enjoy keep it from you. The longer our relationship went on, the harder it became to tell you. You told me about your mother and I swear it was on the tip of my tongue to say it them, but I knew how difficult it was for you to say and I wasn't going to rob you of that moment." He came to me and took one of my reluctant hands into his. "And on that subject, when you told me that your grandfather was Redfield, I knew it would make it that much easier to convince my father that I wanted to marry you. He's not an evil man, but he has strict ideas on marriage. The fact that I am head over heels in love with you wouldn't matter at all to him, but the fact that you have noble blood…"_

_"Half noble." I nearly snapped, "The other half is quite ordinary and proudly so."_

_He smiled. "I know that, Darling."_

_"What about the fact that I'm Irish?"_

_He shrugged. "To be quite honest I don't think that was even an issue. Where do you think I got my blasé attitude about things? Why should a people who don't live England be run by the English? The Americans seemed to have done well without us, why can't Ireland?" he kissed the hand that was wrapped in his. "He's agreed to it. His blessing and one of my mother's rings came in the post this afternoon. I'll give it to you tomorrow morning."_

_"I cannot believe you waited until the night before our wedding to tell me…"_

_"What? That you'll be Lady Wyatt and not just Missus?" there was humor in his eyes, "Or that any children we have will be Lords and Ladies?"_

_"This is no time to joke."_

_"Of course it is. When I tell this story to our grandchildren, I'll have to ease the seriousness of this moment somehow. Telling them I made their grandmamma laugh through her anger will be just the thing to do it."_

_"I don't know how to be a Lady." I said, ignoring his humor and continuing with my somber attitude._

_"You have the basics down. I can't believe your mother wouldn't refer to some of her girlhood when raising you. Everything else you'll pick up on. You're a fast learner. We're making sacrifices for one another. We're going outside what we know for the other. Tomorrow I'm going to be married by a priest in a very catholic sanctuary. The Bishop who baptized me will probably roll over in his grave."_

_I couldn't help but laugh at that._

_"And just as I promised you before, in front of Father Joseph, all of our children will be catholic. This won't change any of that. I don't care whose toes it will step on, that's the way it will be. If I can do all of that, you can be a Lady."_

_I nodded, hearing him clearly and knowing that he was right. He smiled and kissed my hand again, then moved to my lips. We were wrapped in one another's arms when Mrs. Roark came into the room a few moments later. She tisked and ordered us apart._

_"I don't see a ring on that finger as of yet, young man."_

_David laughed. He and Mrs. Roark had come to an understanding over the last few months. She acknowledged that he wasn't just another cold hearted, evil Englishman and he acknowledged that she was Lord and master over me._

_"You're right, ma'am. What was I thinking?" he pulled away from me, but not before whispering "Tomorrow night." into my ear._

I don't know why, but I found myself let down the next day when Tom didn't return. I don't know if I had actually expected him to or if I was crazy to think so, but the whole of Sunday came and went without sight or word from him. It only made my spirits sink lower. I knew he was mad, I knew he probably thought the worst of me. I was embarrassed to think of the way I had handled Alec's sudden appearance. How I offered no explanation and left his thoughts open to wander.

My entire inner wall broke down when I made my bed on Monday morning and found Sybbie's hair bow on the floor between the bed and nightstand. I sat on the floor for a moment and held it, almost bringing myself to tears. Leave it to me to make a mess of a perfect day. When I arrived at work later on, my low mood still lingered and I sat in my tiny office for most of the morning, staring at the keys on my typewriter. It took a knock on the door shortly before noon to pull me away from them and then seeing it was Edith, my spirits sunk further.

"I've brought Tom with me." She said neutrally. I stood just as he appeared beside her, holding his hat in his hands. Without saying another word she left the room, shutting the door behind her. The two of us stood together for a moment, looking at one another, but surely not actually seeing the other, in an uncomfortable silence.

Finally he spoke. "If I've intruded on something…"

"What?" he was implying that Alec and I were or had been in a relationship, I just knew it, "No, it's nothing. He's my friend."

He nodded and fell silent again before saying "But you're going to Dublin with him?"

It was my turn to nod.

"Why?"

"I…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Let me guess, you can't tell me? This another thing you can't tell me."

The words stung far more than any strike could have. I could feel the color drain from my face, the urge to unleash a torrent of tears nearly overpowered me. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to repeat the awful, terrible story to him, but…

_"Are you the wife?"_

_For hours, I had been forgotten and had been left to curl up on the cold hard floor in the corridor of the hospital outside his room. My hands and clothes were stained with his blood, my entire body was weak from grief. I had cried until I no longer had tears. I shook with exhaustion and despair and no one had given me a second thought. It took all I had to lift my head and look at the clean cut Englishman who had spoken to me. Numbly I nodded._

_"I'm the Duke of Anbury's attorney and will be taking the body back to England."_

_I nodded._

_"It would be best for all if you stayed away. Few people knew you were married and it would only complicate matters. The last thing the Duke needs is an Irish daughter in law coming out of the woodwork. Do you understand? Life could become very difficult for you if you choose to do otherwise. There's no doubt among most that you married him for his money. I'm here to tell you that you won't get a cent of it."_

_The words were harsh and stung to my core, but I kept my face straight and lowered my gaze. "I want nothing."_

_"Good." He seemed satisfied. "It wouldn't be hard for me to have you put behind bars for this. You knew the man and it would easy for me to say you were behind it." He spoke the threat darkly and I felt like throwing up then. No, I felt like dying. Dying would be best…If it wasn't for Alec running towards us then, relief washing over his face when he saw me, I might have. He moved past the attorney and sank down next to me. I could see the tears in his eyes and knew that he had heard. An arm came around me and pulled me close, but I was still frozen and numb._

_"There, Lady Wyatt." The attorney sneered from above us. "It seems you've already got another English soldier to care for you."_

I stared at Tom. I was crying now. There had been no way to hold my own against the dark memory. His disposition hadn't softened though, he was still staring hard at me, waiting for an answer. An answer I desperately wanted to give, but even after all of these years the threat frightened me more than anything else in the world. Reluctantly I nodded my head and offered nothing more.

He gave a curt nod. "Of course. Of course…."

"Please…" I managed, "It's not you. You told me just two days ago it didn't bother you, that you could get passed it so long as…"

"That I had your love?" he asked, "This is so much more than that! You don't trust me! You trust another man, but not me! Tell me does he know? Does he know the details of the mountain of secrets you've been keeping from everyone else?"

"Please don't make me answer that." I managed to say through a sob that threatened to choke, "Please…"

"That's my answer then isn't it?" Agitated he gripped his hat with one hand and ran a shaking hand through his hair with the other. I pressed a hand to my lips to quell back the tears. "Do you know what I had to do to come to London? Do you know I defied my father in law…my employer...do you know what I did? I threw the words he said to me the night before you left Downton back in his face as if they never mattered. As if Sybil, my wife, his daughter, as if her memory never even mattered to me. He has no idea what I'm doing here in London, but I did it all the same. You…" he took a breath. "You. I thought you were sent to me by some higher power. You made me see things I never thought I would see again. I had no desire, no need for anyone since I lost my wife and then you came. In the time since you left Downton I had a lot of time to think and every last thought was about you. No one makes that kind of impact on someone else unless it really means something."

I hung on his every word, still trying to control the tears that were nearly shooting from my eyes.

"And you don't trust me." He said again, shaking his head, "If it had been just us in that house Saturday, you might not have asked me to stop and I would have made love to you without a second thought to anyone or anything. I love you. I am in love with you." He said the last words with a strong and pounding emphasis that sent my face into my hands where I openly let the sobs and accompanying tears flow. "I'm sorry, Kate, but I can't…I can't be alright with this."

My hands fell from my face and I was ready to plead once again for him to stop, to go back to that moment in my room where everything was nearly perfect, but I couldn't. The look on his face was one of betrayal. Not only wouldn't I trust him, but I chose to give that trust to another male. It wasn't even the secrets themselves anymore, it was more than that…he was right. There was nothing I could say, besides the truth that would keep him here that would convince him that I wasn't favoring Alec over him. All I could say was that I was sorry.

He didn't reply. I didn't expect him to. He didn't have to say anything to tell me that it was over, over before it had really started, it was as simple as him walking out the door and letting it slam behind him. I sunk into my chair, burying my face in my hands and wept.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

_Six Days Later_

_Tom_

"Here," Sybbie handed me a small toy horse. "You're the captain. Robbie, you're the monster." Next to me on the carpet, Matthew and Mary's one and half year old son stuck the toy lion into his mouth and gave Sybbie a grin. "I am the fairy princess." She then declared to the two of us.

I had been conned into the game they were playing only moments before when I had come into the nursery to see her after breakfast. We were still in London, most of the Crawley family having descended onto Rosamund's house the previous day. Going back to Downton would have raised eyebrows I would rather leave be so Sybbie and I stayed. Outside the skies were gray and it was unseasonably cold. The weather suited my mood just fine. The others had noticed how quiet I had been, including Edith who knew the reason of course. She kept the story to herself though. I hadn't given her the details on what had happened with Kate, but I told her it was over and that was enough to explain it. She didn't ask me to elaborate, just shot me various sympathetic looks throughout the day. Rosamund must have noticed something, but without any fuel to the cause she left the subject alone. Matthew, Mary, Violet and Rose's arrival seemed to have taken the focus off of me though and for that I was glad. On top of everything else, it distracted my daughter who for four days straight had pestered me about Kate. Now that she had her cousin back to order around she left me alone about it.

"Robbie! Don't eat the queen! That is rude!" I looked back up and saw that Robbie was now moving through the specifically placed toys between him and Sybbie, a different toy in his mouth now. He fell down softly on the carpet with a laugh, knocking over more and infuriating Sybbie. "No!"

If I hadn't been in such a dark mood the situation would have been laughable. Instead though I picked up the blonde haired child and saved him from his cousin's wrath. The nanny was close by and I handed him off to her intent on giving my daughter a good scolding when the door to the nursery opened. One of the footman stood there.

"Mr. Branson." He told me stiffly, "You're wanted in the sitting room."

"What is it?" I was annoyed and in sour spirits, I had no desire to go to the sitting room.

"Lady Edith asks it, sir."

Sighing, I turned to Sybbie and informed her to play nice until I returned. I followed the footman down the stairs and to the sitting room where I found Edith…and Mr. Edgecomb waiting for me. I stiffened at the sight of him. He was impeccably dressed and sat in the chair across from Edith. Seeing me he stood politely, but I said nothing to acknowledge him. He appeared to be an intelligent man though and kindly ignored it.

Edith looked at me. "Tom, Sir Edgecomb wishes to speak with you. He is being awfully invasive as to why however." she said bluntly. Then I realized she had said "Sir Edgecomb" Oh that made it even better didn't it? I had been passed over for a knight.

Sir Edgecomb's posture seem to slump at the Edith's words, but to his credit he didn't seem to let it sway him. "Yes, well…" he looked from me, still standing by the door, to Edith and then back at me again. "I hadn't intended to do this in front of an audience."

Both sets of male eyes rested on Edith who made no bones about the fact that she was put out. She huffed and stood, smoothing out her pale green skirt. "I'll have you know," she said to me on the way out the door, "That I intend to pull the information out of you the second you walk out of this room." Then she shut the door with a firm push, leaving me alone with someone who's only appealing quality was the image I had in my head of putting his head through a wall.

"What do you want?" I asked instead.

He put his hands up. "Before you say anything more, she doesn't know I am here. I am afraid you may have gotten the wrong impression about our relationship and though she assured me to leave it alone, I needed to speak my peace all the same."

"Speak your peace then." I was really only half paying attention to what he was saying.

"She's not my mistress, lover or anything of that sort."

"The thought never even crossed my mind." I lied. It had. Of course it had.

"But she is my friend. One of the closest and dearest, truth be told and…"he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I am worried about her." I almost scoffed at that. I wasn't sure what he was about, but at this point I didn't care. Then he said "She's left."

"What do you mean left?" I suddenly whirled forgetting everything else. . My mouth had suddenly gone dry.

"Left. What I said. She's gone. Left for Dublin two days ago."

"I thought that was your plan? You two running off to Ireland together?"

"I told you, Branson. It's not like that. And No, she's gone. It was Mrs. Cochran that told me. She left without a word. I'm not due to go until tomorrow. My responsibilities wouldn't allow me to go any sooner, but it might be for the best that I was forced to stay behind. It made me realize how ridiculous this situation is. She let you believe that she and I were together, but as I told you that isn't the case at all."

"Then what is it?" I snapped. "What is it all about because she certainly won't tell me?"

"That I can't tell you."

I raised a fist intent on planting it directly through his sharp little nose when he reached into his breast pocket and pulled an envelope out, handing it to me. The gesture surprised me and I lowered my fist and my guard to take it. "But," he continued, "I want to invite you to Dublin to learn the truth for yourself."

"I don't need your charity."

"I'm not giving it. That's the ticket that should have been hers and if you don't use it no one else will." He took a deep breath. "Look. You don't know me, but you may hate me. That's all well and fine, but I just ask that you hate me for legitimate reasons and not fabricated ones. She is my friend, she is in pain and has been for some time now. When I saw her a few weeks ago after the visit to York though, after she had met you, she was quite seriously the happiest I had seen her in years. Something about that visit awoke something inside of her and that's why I won't believe her now when she tells me you were nothing to her." He then straightened himself out, pulling his jacket firmly around him. "The role of Cupid doesn't suit me well at all, but I hope that I have at least made my case."

I nodded, staring down at the envelope in my hands, my head swimming with the information he had just laid out.

_Pain._

_Had been for some time._

_I meant nothing to her…_

I didn't believe the last one for a second.

"I can't just up and go to Ireland." I suddenly spoke up. "I have a job, a child…and a piece of paper somewhere baring me from the country."

I caught the hint of a laugh from Edgecomb at that. "Oh that, don't worry about that. I'm a pretty high ranking official in the government. As for the other two, quit the first and find a nanny for the second. I don't recommend bringing her."

I stood there, dumbfounded, holding the ticket in one clenched hand and nervously twitching the other. I couldn't just leave. Despite the fact that I hadn't set foot on Irish soil in three years, there was Robert to consider. As ridiculous as it sounded, I didn't want to bring up what he had only given me a glimpse of the other night. And then there was my daughter. I had never left Sybbie before. There hadn't been a night since her birth where we had not been under the same roof. I couldn't go to another country without her.

But…If Kate needed me though as Edgecomb had said…

I had told the woman I was in love with her the week before. I had laid it all out on the table and had it thrown back in my face when she refused to be honest with me. It never occurred to me then that her reasons were excusable. That maybe there was something I didn't understand. It didn't cross my mind until that very moment that she really _couldn't_ tell me.

"She said she didn't want to see me?" I then asked.

He nodded. "I saw her after you left her office. She was—", he hesitated. "She was a mess."

"I was angry..." I began to defend myself, but then stopped. I didn't even want to hear my excuses. "Look, she didn't want to invite me that deeply into her life then and I doubt she does now."

"She doesn't know what she wants. I implore you to accept my offer. She needs more than one person behind her who gives a damn."

Another cryptic answer. I was beginning to think Sir Edgecomb and Kate had attended the same school of secrecy. "Is it really that serious?"

His lips pressed together in deep thought. "She's told you nothing?" he then asked.

"I know that someone she loved is dead." I told him, recalling the conversation on the bench that night. "And that some twisted Irishman was behind it. Not that she gave many details, that's just what I've gathered."

He nodded. "Yes, well, that's about the way of it." He then paused and took a deep breath, hands going back into his pockets. It was shocking casual stance that made me lower my own guard as well. Then he said. "It was her husband. The one that's dead."

The simple sentence, short and direct hit me square in the gut. "Husband?"

"He was murdered. Coldly and cruelly. They had been married mere months when it happened." Saying the words seemed to pain him. I watched the color in his face decline. "He was a good man. English, but fair and kind. I am proud to say he was my friend."

Still reeling from what he had said, I tried to organize the eruption of thoughts and explanations in my head, but it was no use.

"The accused was recently caught in Scotland. He's been running since it happened in November of '20. They extradited him back to Dublin a few weeks ago and have scheduled the initial trial for this coming week. She'll have to testify, that's why she's there and why I came to the house that day."

I couldn't believe this. Couldn't begin to understand it. Shaking my head in disbelief I sunk down to the cushioned chair behind me. Leaning against my legs I looked away from him, but still spoke. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"I couldn't begin to answer that. She was threatened by her father in law's attorney to keep it to herself, but there has to be more to it than that. She was broken, grief stricken and could barely function on her own after it happened. I brought her to England and did my best to help her, but throughout all of the progress she's made she's never told anyone who she really is and what happened to him."

I looked up quickly. "Who she really is?" I asked.

"A Lady. Lady Wyatt to be precise." He said simply and threw another blow to my gut.

* * *

_Kate_

It should have been a comfort to be back home. Back within the walls I had grown up in, surrounded by happy memories and familiarity, but it didn't. There was a hollow knot in my stomach that had lingered since my departure from London three days before. I had run away. Something I regretted as soon as my feet touched the gang plank of the ship that brought me here. I had run from Tom, from Alec and even from poor Edith who had tried several times to get in touch with me after Tom had left me that day in my office. I was a coward. A weak and spineless coward.

Mrs. Roark however had greeted me with open arms on the docks. I couldn't deny I had been pleased to see her or my relief at the fact that she had received my last minute telegram. She had brought me back to my parent's home, all warm and fresh as if I had never left it all of those years ago and had a hot meal on the table for me within moments of our arrival. She had also procured a young maid to help out in the kitchen. It was honestly as if I had never left. My room was just as I had left it. I questioned her with how she had produced all of our belongings so quickly from storage but she told me to quiet myself and then proceeded to unpack my bags and store the clothing in the wardrobe.

That Monday night I sat in the sitting room, a fire roaring in the hearth against the wet cold that was outside, curled up in my father's chair, a shawl thrown over my shoulders. I was still dressed, but had let my hair stay down that day, throwing it into a long braid that now hung heavy over my shoulder. The fire crackled and shed its heat against my face as I stared into it.

_"I can't believe you." Mrs. Roark said to me as we strolled through the busy open street market. The morning was crisp against my bare cheeks. "An Englishman! You might as well have gone on a walk with the devil himself." She passed Mrs. McCormick and greeted her a good day before seething at me again. "What on earth possessed you girl?"_

_"I told you." I explained as we walked through the crowd, "He really goaded me into it." Bribed more like, I thought recalling the moment in the shop where he had come to rescue only a few days before with a shilling to cover the cost of the trinket box. "I really couldn't say no."_

_"Well you will if he asks again. What would your dear father say if he were alive?"_

_"Probably nothing considering my mother was English."_

_"Stuff and nonsense. You're a good Irish girl who should only have eyes for good Irish boys. Fair colored ones at that. That Sullivan boy can stay away for all I care." She slipped into the nearest booth and began to bargain with the vendor over his fresh fish leaving the conversation just as quickly as she had started it._

_I thought back to the past weekend when my walk with the English soldier had taken place. He had been amiable enough and there was no denying his good looks but that wasn't enough for me to accept his offer of doing it again another time. He actually looked hurt when I told him No, but I knew who he really was. They were all the same weren't they? Bullies. Trying to control us and make us English._

_The sound of a scuffle then caught my attention. I looked in front of me and saw the unmistakable tan and black uniforms, three of them, coming around pretty Mary Gallagher and her grandmother. One of the men grabbed the basket from the old lady and dumped the produce it contained onto the cobbled street. A slew of Gaelic obscenities began to spit forth from her mouth, but the man only laughed and squashed a pear under his boot._

_"You scum!" Mary screamed, calling more of the crowd to their attention, including Mrs. Roark. "Leave her alone!"_

_"We are only having a bit o' fun, Dearie." Another said, running his hand along Mary's soft cheek._

_"I say you listen to the girl, Morgan!" another voice spoke up. I recognized it._

_David strolled forth, civilian dressed and glaring at the three soldiers. The crowd parted to let him through to the group faster and he wasted no time in pushing the men away from the two women._

_"If this is how you're choosing to utilize your free time I'd say you're not mature enough to be left to your own devices."_

_"Sir." One of them replied and the three of them saluted._

_David picked up the empty basket and shoved it at the one who had dumped it out. "At your own cost you will go and refill this for the woman. You will treat her as if she were your own grandmother, do you understand?"_

_"Yes sir." He scurried away to do so, leaving David to glare at the other promising them that "suitable punishments" would be awaiting them when they reported for duty the next day._

_"We are not here to terrorize, Gentleman. We are guests in this city and will act as such. You are superior to no one."_

_It was only when the other men had run off and he had seen Mary and Mrs. Gallagher to rights again did David notice me staring at him from the crowd. Mrs. Roark nearly lost her footing as he strolled toward me with a handsome smile on his face._

_"Miss Byrne," he greeted, dipping his hat to me. The crowd around us dispersed, but only slightly, some were still looking on at him with both awe and shock._

_"Captain Wyatt." I replied and then presented Mrs. Roark, who refused to take his hand, but did give him a satisfied look._

_"You're the soldier then?"_

_"Yes, ma'am. Well unless there are others, then I can't be sure. Miss Byrne?" he looked at me with a teasing twinkle in his eye that made me almost laugh out loud._

_"You're a handsome one. Dark, yes, but the eyes…yes I approve of the eyes." Her words drew me to look at his blue, almost sapphire like eyes._

_"I feel as if I'm a stallion on display." He joked again, but to my amazement my middle aged housekeeper laughed heartily._

_"Perhaps you are. Katie, darling," she turned to me, " I approve."_

"Katie?"

I looked up at the sound of my name. Mrs. Roark was standing over me, worry covering her pleasant face. "You haven't eaten."She indicated the tray of food the kind maid had brought nearly an hour ago that now sat on the side table cold and inedible.

"I'm not hungry." I turned back to the fire, but she squeezed herself onto the arm of the chair and cut me off from my view.

"Isn't your friend due tonight? I've had Rosie make up a room for him."

Alec was due that evening, but I had my doubts on whether he would show up. No doubt he was angry with me for leaving sooner than expected without him. Then again, this was Alec and I had certainly been fouler to him in the past. Bless him, he never let that stop him from helping me.

"You should fix yourself up then."

"It's just Alec, he won't mind and he probably won't stay. A hotel in town is far more suited to him than a guest room without service here." I was grumpy and bitter and knew the statement was a lie. He wouldn't care where he slept so long as there was a pillow and mattress beneath him.

Mrs. Roark took it in stride though and covered my hand with her own and squeezed. "I lit a candle for you tonight. I prayed for peace of mind for you, my girl. Peace of mind and happiness." She then kissed my forehead and smoothed a hand over my head before rising and going back to the kitchen with my untouched tray. I didn't call her back to say there was only one way to give me all of that at the moment.

"Tom," I whispered into the fire, "Forgive me."

All I wanted was him. Him sitting with me right now, holding me in his arms, offering me advice and comfort, assuring me that he didn't hate me. It was an impossible wish and the thought made me feel even more dreadful.

An hour later I heard the taxi pull up outside. The rain was coming down in torrents then, harsh and unyielding. It forced me up from my seat and I went to the window to peer through the lace curtains to see Alec step out into the wetness from the back of the car. I moved for the door, calling for Mrs. Roark and shedding my shawl. I knew I would have some explaining to do for him and took a breath to prepare myself.

The doorbell rang and I went to it quickly, opening it to let him in.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

_Tom_

I agonized over the decision. After Edgecomb left that afternoon I went to my room and sat on my bed and literally played every scenario over in my head. I set the ticket on my bedside table and stared at it for a long moment. I could tell the family I had gone to see mine. The last time I had seen them had been Sybbie's first birthday. They had come to Downton and the visit hadn't been terrible, but it had been uncomfortable enough to where they hadn't asked to return. Visiting them wouldn't seem out of the norm. Still, it would look odd if I went without Sybbie and I just couldn't bring her.

I had to go though I knew I did. There was no way I couldn't.

Married I still couldn't wrap my head around it. Why hadn't she told me? And to a Lord. She wasn't just any Mrs. She was a Lady! Did she think I had something against that? She knew who my wife had been, didn't she?

In the end, I told them my father was sick. Edith looked up at me in surprise. I knew she knew that wasn't the truth, but rather than say so, she voiced much concern over the fact and offered to help me, but I declined it.

"I don't think it's serious." I told her at dinner. "I would just rather be there."

Matthew did not hesitate to give me the go ahead, even though we both knew I didn't need it. "It shouldn't be a problem, Tom. Go and don't give it a second thought."

The guilt over my lie was eating away at me before I even walked out of the dining room. I packed that night and devoted most of the next morning to Sybbie who didn't seem near as broken up about the separation as I did. Mary was in the nursery with us the hour before I was due to meet Edgecomb at the station. I had indulged Sybbie with a book and a game of dolls and Mary looked on with a smile from the rocking chair where she cradled her son.

Finally she spoke. "Your father isn't sick is he?"

I didn't look at her from my spot in the window, but I shook my head honestly. I saw her nod knowingly from the corner of my eye.

"Papa doesn't approve of your relationship with Miss Bryne."

Again, I shook my head.

"You know it isn't her he dislikes. If that's what this visit pertains to, you needn't hide it from us. You were a good husband to Sybil. You were loving and faithful, a fact that hasn't gone unnoticed. It's the fact that she was taken from us so quickly that upsets him. Consciously he knows you should move on. That Sybbie needs a mother, but watching you find someone else, watching you both fall in love with someone else is what hurts the most." She set a wiggling Robbie down onto the floor. "It makes her death final. It's a point in which you can't turn back from and shows that there is life and love beyond her end."

"As many rows as we have had in the past, I don't care to hurt him." I told her. I said the words with relief. Mary was many things, but stupid was not one of them. I was glad she had the ability to figure out the truth behind my trip without making me feel as if I was doing something wrong.

"I know that." She told me kindly. "And that empathy is to your credit. You're a great man, Tom. You're a Crawley in all but name and we consider you one of our own, no matter who you may marry in the future or even if you do."

I looked at her and smiled. "Thank you for that."

She smiled back and then we both turned our attention back to our children.

Many long hours later, I arrived in Dublin. We had been on the last ship to leave England and the crossing had been rough. A storm lingered somewhere nearby and dumped buckets of rain down on us. Even when we docked in Dublin, the rain was unrelenting and I struggled in the storm to find the luggage while Edgecomb attempted to find a car. I found myself liking the bloke on the trip over. There was a haughtiness about him that was not unlikeable. He seemed intelligent and could carry on a conversation, though he didn't speak any more of Kate's marriage or husband no matter how I pressed him. He did speak of Ireland in glowing terms though which may or may not have changed my view on some of the English. I didn't tell him of my political thoughts or that the things I had done to rid the country of his group. I figured some things were better left unsaid.

When we docked both of us set out with decided upon jobs to make the transition from boat to car easier in the storm. It didn't matter much though as we were both soaked through to the bone by the time a car was found and the luggage was collected. The taxi driver helped us put the things into the car before the two of us got into the back, dripping wet.

"The Westin Hotel," he told the driver.

My head cut to him in question which he quickly brushed as he lounged against the seat. "For me. I'll send you on to Sutton."

"Avoiding her?" I asked.

He laughed. "I served in France for two years during the war. Almost lost my life and a few limbs and I'd honestly take one of those moments back over being around when she sees you're here. She'll know I told you the story and I know she'll be out for blood." He took his hat off and shook it over the floor. "I imagine you'll be safe enough though. It's not your fault is it?"

We pulled up to the hotel a few moments later where Edgecomb got out and directed the waiting bellman to his luggage. He wished me luck and promised to come around in the morning once tempers had cooled. His humor filled farewell made me nervous though. I felt like shaking the entire ride out of the city and to the quiet outskirt of a town where the rain was falling more harshly now, thunder echoing in the distance. The taxi pulled up to a good sized brick house towards the center of the town. I observed its three stories and flower boxes on the lower level windows. Inside the lamp light lit its windows with a warm glow and I felt another wave of nerves hit me. Putting my hat back on to ward off the rain, I opened the door myself and stepped outside onto the wet street. The driver went to the back to fetch the luggage while I approached the porch. When I was close enough I pressed the doorbell.

It only took a moment for the door to swing open and I think another half a moment for her to realize it was me. She didn't look as if I remembered her, which was ridiculous of course since it had only been a week, but with her hair down and the skirt and blouse she wore that were much plainer than anything I had ever seen her in before I was caught slightly off guard. She stared at me, eyes wide, and mouth slightly agape. She obviously hadn't been expecting me.

I didn't say anything. I had no words, but the silence between us wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't even truly silence. I could hear her shock and surprise. My eyes scanned over her beautiful features, dark eyes moist with unshed tears, the perfectly formed lips that I was now aching to touch with my own were still parted in shock at my presence. Then without warning or preamble she flung herself into my arms, arms that came around her fast. She buried her face my shoulder, her feet swinging up off the ground. Water fell on the two of us, but neither bothered to take notice of it. I hugged her close feeling the nervousness settling throughout me. This was right, I thought to myself, this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

* * *

 

_Kate_

I was thoroughly soaked by the time we made our way inside the house. Mrs. Roark was in the hall, no doubt confused because the man I was hugging certainly wasn't Alec, but I left the problem for a later time and took Tom to the sitting room.

"You're here." I breathed as he took off his hat. "I can't believe it." Then I realized he was here. He had to know. Quickly the thoughts began to run through my head. Alec must have told him. That was the only explanation. But oh, he was still here despite it! "You know?" I asked in a whisper. He paused before nodding. I was torn then between running away in shame or jumping into his arms and hugging him fierce for not wishing to have nothing to do with me again. I chose the latter. He was still wrapped in his wet coat, but I didn't care. I was far too overcome with emotion to notice. He hugged me back.

"You should have told me." He soothed in a low voice.

I nodded through tears that I hadn't the strength to hold back. "I'm sorry."

He pulled away and I noticed that Mrs. Roark had left the hallway. "Why didn't you?"

I shook my head, not really knowing the answer to the question. "I was scared. I thought…I'm not sure what I thought. I don't tell anyone. I…" I sunk down into my father's chair, still warm from before. "I was scared to say anything to anyone. I was afraid to relive it."

"So you'd rather do it all your own then? Face all of this with no one by your side?"

Something that sounded like an "I don't know" left my mouth, but it was too clouded by my sobs to be clearly understood. I knew he was right, but he said nothing more. Instead he knelt down before me and wrapped his arms around my shaking form. "I can't believe you're here." I said into his embrace.

"I said I loved you," his reply came, soft and deep, "You don't desert the people you love when they need you the most."

I hugged him tighter in response, blessing Alec's meddling and knowing how fortunate I was to have them both in my life.

* * *

 

_Tom_

The housekeeper had eyed me with suspicion when finally given the chance. Kate introduced me with a tear tainted smile and I could tell the women was of great significance to her. Mrs. Roark she called her and I did the same when I offered my hand, which she refused to take. When I awkwardly put it back in my pocket she looked me over with her mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Who is he?"

"A friend from England." Kate told her placidly.

"But not English."

"No. As Irish as you are."

"No one is as Irish as I am," She rebutted with a sniff, but she seemed to accept the story Kate offered and said she would take me to my room. "I'll have nothing disrespectful happening in this house." She told me as she led me up the stairs after I had retrieved my suitcases. Kate had silently been told to stay put in the sitting room.

"I wasn't—"

"I've known the girl since she was barely a bump under her Mama's apron." She went on, leading me to a door at the end of the hall. "I've nursed her through the measles, scraped knees, one broken bone and a broken heart. I won't stand for much more, Mr…what is your name?"

"Tom Br—"

"Never mind, Tom is good enough for now. I don't play the fancy games around here. I won't fluff your pillows or offer to shine your shoes, do you understand."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good." She opened the door and walked in. I followed and watched her flick a match in the dark to light a gas lamp on the night table. The dim light shined into the corners of the room, bringing out a comfortable looking bed, wardrobe and cushioned sofa in the corner. "There are fresh sheets on the bed, clean blankets. I did the best I could for the Englishman I expected so it will do for you."

"Yes."

She crossed her arms and stared at me again. She couldn't be much over fifty I thought, but she wore her hair and clothes dated and from another time. She was all propriety and manners. Mr. Carson would approve, I thought with a hidden smile.

"Breakfast is served promptly at eight. There is a washroom across the hall. There is no one else in this corridor except for you. Mine and Kathleen's rooms are on the opposite side on the stairs." There was no mistaking the challenge in that last part that clearly said "Step out of this hall way and I'll cut your parts off and hand them to you."

I decided nodding and bidding her goodnight would be the only appropriate answer to her statement. She left me after, with a strong click of the door. Outside the rain still poured down from the skies, but I was here. The house had been more than I'd expected. It was definitely no Downton, but it was still large. Kate certainly hadn't grown up wanting for anything.

When I walked down the stairs, dressed as impeccably as possible, the next morning. I got a better look at things. There appeared to be two other rooms in my stretch of hall and a quick glance from the top landing across to the other showed maybe six doors. I didn't dare cross over to count though. Instead I went down the stairs and followed the scent of food to an empty dining room. The movement behind a door off to the side and voices carrying from it told me it was the kitchen and I debated with myself for a moment before I took the uncomfortable initiative and went to it. It swung open to reveal the housekeeper at the stove and Kate, sitting on a stool at a worn butcher table, head hung over the morning paper. She was dressed in a light blue blouse and blue checkered skirt. Her hair was up, not down like the night before which I found I preferred. She looked up and smiled at me when I walk in and I couldn't help but smile back.

"You're early." She said, as Mrs. Roark turned to offer me a good morning glare, "You have another half hour until I set the table."

"Offer the boy some tea." Mrs. Roark then spoke, now back at the stove, watching the potato pancakes bubble and the pan of rashers sizzle. I couldn't deny the ache it filled in me. The scent, the sounds, it was deeply Home to me. Then I realized it was because I was home. My parents weren't an hour away from here.

Kate poured the tea into a cup directly from the cupboard and set it on the table for me. Her eyes were lit up with happiness that made me want to discard the tea all together and kiss her to my satisfaction instead. It hadn't gone unnoticed that I hadn't been able to do that the night before. She seemed to sense what I was thinking and leaned in to brush a kiss against my cheek before she sat back down in her chair, taking a sip from her own cup. I followed her lead, sat and took a sip.

"Where is Sybbie?" she asked after a moment.

"Mary and Matthew are going to look after her." I answered.

"Who is Sybbie?" Mrs. Roark turned around, the pan of pancakes in her hand and slid the batch onto a waiting plate.

"Tom's daughter." Kate told her with a smile, "She's the sweetest thing. Just turned three didn't she?" she asked turning to me.

I nodded.

"So you're married then?"

"Widowed."

Looked passed over the housekeepers then that wasn't a glare or blank stare. It was one of genuine sympathy. Then she paused. Stopped what she was doing and then asked. "What is your family name again?"

"I never told you." I told her honestly.

"So tell me now and quit with the smart lip." She fired back. Kate giggled beside me.

"Branson." I said, cutting a look at the amused woman beside me.

"Branson? You're not Ailish Branson's boy are you?"

Now, the woman had my attention. "Yes, I am."

"The one with the dead wife." She was crass, but I managed to answer "Yes" again without flinching. "She speaks of you often. Says you're living the high and mighty life in an English castle. Does she know you're here?"

"I was going to go by there today." I replied, somewhat honestly. I hadn't planned it until that moment, but I did want to go.

"Well so was I. We can make a grand trip out of it then can't we?" she turned back to the stove and I quickly looked over to Kate.

"Small world." She smiled at me, then reached across the table and took my hand into hers. Her lashes were thick over her warm chocolate eyes. Despite what I knew to be ahead of her, she seemed calmer and happier than I had ever seen her before. She seemed to fit into the kitchen as easily as the yellow curtains that fluttered in the open window and God help me it made me love her more. I was conscious of the fact that she hadn't repeated the words to me yet, but as she looked at me then with so much emotion, I knew she did. She didn't have to say anything for me to know it was true. I squeezed her hand in response before the housekeeper turned around and forced us to part once again.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

_Kate_

Mrs. Roark had practically dragged Tom out by the necktie after lunch. I was expecting Alec and felt only slightly guilty as I watched them go out the door, but I mused it would be good for them to be together for a few hours. After his arrival the night before I felt as if the promises we had made to one another had been renewed. I wanted to see where this went. I felt, for the first time since David's death that I might just find happiness with someone else. I felt more resilient with his presence in the house. Mickey's trial now loomed before me closer than ever, but I didn't feel the fear I had felt before. I was still afraid, but knowing Tom was in my corner gave me the strength to push through it.

Alec showed up at the door not an hour after Tom and Mrs. Roark had left. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and he his smile was sheepish when I opened the door.

"Should I be afraid?" he asked, hands up mockingly to block a blow.

I couldn't suppress my laughter. "No."

"Wonderful." He put his hands down and followed me into the house. "Where is your man then?"

"Mrs. Roark has kidnapped him." I said as we walked into the sitting room. I left the front door open to capture some of the fresh, after-the-rain, air and sat down on the sofa, inviting him to sit next to me, "Apparently she knows his mother."

"It is a small world isn't it?" he sank down on the cushion comfortably next to me, giving me one of his winning smiles. "You're really not mad I brought him along?"

I laid a hand over his and shook my head with honesty. "No, I'm not. I thank you for it. I don't know why I ever thought I could do this all on my own."

"I wasn't sure I had done the right thing. Even as we docked last night I could just picture you ringing my neck for it. I didn't give him details about things, just so you know."

"We haven't had a real moment alone to discuss any of it." I told him, "I'm sure he has more than a few questions for me though."

"He tried to get more out of me, but I kept my mouth shut."

I managed a small smile. "I appreciate that."

"As you should." He sat back and crossed a leg, ankle to opposite thigh and gave me a cocky grin. "I accept both cash payments or, if you please, a sweet word or two about me whispered into Lady Edith's ear."

"Edith?" I laughed, "When did…oh." I realized he must have met her when he'd gone to see Tom. "She is rather pretty isn't she?"

"I thought so. I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know her better." He said with a raise of his brow, "Tell me, is there anyone that might block my way?"

I thought about Michael Gregson in silence. Was there any way to properly identify Edith's relationship with him? Would I even call it a relationship? I chose to remain silent on the subject all together and instead smiled at him. "I'll be sure to say something nice about you in her hearing."

He accepted the answer and moved on to ask about how I was doing before getting to the matter at hand. "Are you ready for it?"

"Not at all."

He looked at me, his eyes full of unspoken pity. "They'll ask you to speak. You don't know that?"

I nodded. "On the stand and under oath, yes I know. They said as much to me the other day." The day after I had arrived, almost as if they had been following my tracks, two men from the prosecutor's office had come to the house. They had been very polite, but very stern and told me in straight terms what was to be expected of me. My statement, especially about the night David was killed, was especially important it seemed.

Alec nodded. "I will be there." He said after a pause. "I haven't left your side since this all happened and you know I won't now."

The firm reassurance made me smile small at my dearest friend. "I wouldn't have made it without you. Every time I felt like giving up, succumbing to it all, you were there to pull me back up. I would be dead now if it weren't for you."

He scooted closer and draped an arm around me. "Not dead. I haven't done all that much. You got your education and a rather decent job all on your own. You've woken up every day for the past two and half years and taken a breath and a step, that's more than a lot of people will do. You have been doing exactly what he would have wanted you to do. And as for me, I've been doing the same. I've been there, but I have supported you more times than I have pulled you up." He gave me a squeeze. "You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, Kate."

I smiled up at him. "You are very good at giving encouraging speeches."

"A left over trait from my army days." He gave me a chaste kiss on the top of my head to seal the sentence.

_The church was quiet. Of course the church was never loud, but that afternoon as I stood in the back of it, dressed in my wedding finery, Mrs. Roark adding another hair pin to my short veil, I was overcome with the lack of people, the lack of chatter, the lack of any sort of noise. Of all the times I had pictured my wedding day as a girl, I never thought it would be the way I saw it at that very moment. A sanctuary at least half full, strewn with flowers and ribbons, my mother waiting for me in the first pew, my father anxious as he led me down the aisle to my husband. The image of my husband was mostly clouded save for those brief moments when I tried to picture Mickey, but that never seemed to feel right._

_The view that greeted me when I peeked out from the tiny front hall was one of a bare church, with just David, Alec and Father Joseph at the altar. Both Englishmen were dressed to the nines, hair slicked back and in perfectly tailored suits. David had insisted they leave their uniforms at home, something I think we all agreed with. Standing with me in the hall were Mrs. Roark, of course and my friend Darcy, who had made her displeasure at the event known, but shown up anyway dressed in blue with a straw hat over her copper colored hair. It wasn't the day I had pictured certainly, but I found myself not minding. The only thing, the absolute only thing I wanted for were my parents._

_"They are here, my dear." Mrs. Roark then said to me in a comforting whisper._

_I looked up fast. "Am I that transparent?" I asked._

_"There isn't a soul alive who wouldn't wish for their parents to be here on this kind of day." She placed a hand each on my cheeks, cupping my face as she had done a thousand times before, "They are always with you, my dear. No matter where your life takes you they will be there beside you. Sharing your happiness and sadness."_

_I had to push back the tears her heart spoken words had created. Instead I hugged her tight, not caring in the least that I may wrinkle my dress or muss my hair. However I was assured a few moments later, when I had made my way down the aisle, that I was breathtakingly beautiful despite it. I smiled at David and caught a wink from Alec who stood behind him. The day wasn't how I had pictured it, but God help me it was wonderful all on its own. I had such hope for the future at that moment. As we said our vows and spoke of our lives together from then on, the better, the worse, the children I felt the happiness bubble over within me. I had no reason to believe then that within a matter of months it would all be stolen away from me._

A few moments later, I heard the sound of footsteps coming up onto the porch and seconds later enter the house. Mrs. Roark's voice could be heard and Alec stood to greet her and Tom when they appeared in the sitting room archway.

"Ah Branson, you're alive. Good, good. And Mrs. Roark," he held his arms open to her, "It's been too long."

Mrs. Roark's face remained straight, but she acknowledged Alec with a slight nod of her head. "Will I be adding another place at the dinner table then?" she asked me, looking past Alec.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble." I answered, knowing it wouldn't. She always cooked more than enough to feed an army.

"I have missed your cooking." Alec spoke up. "No matter where I go, no one else can quite measure up." he continued his fawning with an indulgent smile.

From my place on the sofa I caught Tom's eye. He was standing away from two and gave me a small smile that made the world seemingly stop around us. I had to push away the urge to go over to him and kiss the smile from his lips. When I managed to return my attention to Alec and Mrs. Roark I found that she had consented to serve him this evening and he in turn was giving her a triumphant smile.

"I hope Kate will honor me with some of her homemade bread as well." He said with a laugh and turned to me. I quickly looked over my immediate area for something to throw at him while looked at Tom and smirked. "We don't let Kate near the kitchen in a cooking capacity. Men have died as a result of it."

"No one has ever died." I defended myself and stood. "Though you might for saying so." I gave his boot a slight kick as I walked by the two of them and towards Tom in the hallway. "The company in here has become a tad bothersome. Would you like to go on a walk with me?"

I could hear Mrs. Roark began to voice her opposition to my idea, but Alec quickly jumped in with a question that distracted her from doing on. It pulled her attention away long enough for Tom to agree and for the two of us to go out the front door, me grabbing my hat and jacket on the way. When the door was shut behind us and I was properly attired I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the porch, down the walk and out through the iron gate onto the sidewalk. When were safely out of distance and around the corner, I gave into the urge that had been afflicting me since the moment he had arrived the night before and kissed him. If I had caught him off guard, he took care not to give me any indication of it. His hand came up quickly and cupped the back of my neck pressing us closer together and deepening the kiss.

"It's about time." He spoke in a deep whisper when we parted. "I was about to lose my mind."

"I will give you another then, just to make sure you don't." and I leaned up to brush my lips against his once more. "Will that be alright then?" I asked after with a coy smile.

"For now." He replied and gave me a long intense look that hit my heart directly.

"I am so glad you're here." I said after absorbing the moment. "I didn't get a chance last night to tell you just how much it means to me. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you to just leave, but you did." I paused before saying "I'm sure it wasn't without hesitation though."

"It wasn't," he agreed "But it was more to do with Sybbie than with you." He brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face. The gesture was so simple yet so telling. It spoke a thousand words to me. "I wanted to be here." He continued, "I wanted to see you. Even before I knew what was really going on…That day in your office…"

"Don't." I interrupted him. I didn't want to think of that terrible day.

"I made a first class ass of myself, Kate. You deserve an apology. I assumed the worst about you and—"

"And I did not speak up to correct you." I said, shouldering the blame as equally as he. "If I had you would have taken it all back then and there and we both know it. I had to continue on with my secrets. Continue on as if I didn't care about you or even trust you. And to both of those things, I do." I said with a shake of my head, "I am the one that insulted you. Please don't apologize. You had your questions then and with good reason and you probably have them now. I owe you answers."

"You don't owe them to me. If you want to tell me, then tell me."

I pulled my eyes from his for a moment, willing and wishing for the strength to say that I wanted to. Finally I told myself to quick being so stupid and fearful and I looked back at him and nodded. "I want to."

"Then I'm listening."

"I'm not sure where to start."

With a soft expression upon his face, he took my hand into his warm grasp and began to lead me in a comfortable stroll down the sidewalk. "Tell me about him."

* * *

_Tom_

I listened attentively to every word she said, not wavering at any obstacle on the sidewalk or even when she took long breaths to gather her nerves. She told me about him, David. How they had met, the fact that he was English…and a Duke's son. That part admittedly through me to the ground. She was a Lady just as I had been told. As she spoke at further length I realized his title, and thus hers meant very little to either one of them.

"He wanted to live here." She said as we moved out of the way of two boys who were chasing one another down the walk. "Well he wanted to live wherever I did. " I watched her smile to herself at the memory. "I'm not even sure why I wanted to stay though. My parents were dead, my friends…well, I had them, but they weren't very supportive." She shrugged away the sadness and looked up. "Still, this was home."

"Is it not anymore?" I asked.

She thought for a moment, silent and gaze forward. "When my parents died, I was distraught, but from somewhere I found the strength to keep going. There was a kind of peace that comforted me. Perhaps it was because they were together, I'm not sure, but I was able to still be in the house, go into their room after a few weeks." She took a breath. "After David, being here just hurt. No matter where I went there was a memory, his spirit lingered and I found myself not wanting to leave my room. My bed even. I just couldn't do it. Now I'm here again and for long moments I'm able to function and then, it catches up with me. I don't think I could ever call this place home again."

I nodded. I understood exactly what she meant. I opened my mouth to tell her so, when I noticed that she had stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk. She was staring straight ahead and seemed to be paling the by the second due to whatever was in front of her. I turned fast to see what it was and saw the source was a middle aged woman not a yard away. She too had stopped in mid walk, but slowly began to approach Kate as the seconds moved on.

"Katie." The woman said at last when she neared her. She was middle aged, my own mother's age and though she was dressed with more care than Ma, her face showed more age than it ought. Her hair must have at one time been red, but was now lighter with age and streaked with white.

I watched Kate swallow back with a struggle before she acknowledged her. "Mrs. Sullivan. It's nice to see you."

The women smiled kindly as I was sure she had done a million times before where Kate was concerned. She seemed to know her and well, but made no other moves in show of a greeting or affection. I stood on the outer side of the awkward silence, unsure if I should speak up to break it or just let it go on its own. Then, the women identified as Mrs. Sullivan turned to me.

"I'm sorry, I'm Margaret Sullivan." She held her hand out politely, and being the man my mother raised me to be I shook it respectfully.

"Tom Branson."

Her light eye brows rose with satisfaction as I said my name, no doubt noting my accent. She then looked to Kate. "I didn't know you had married again."

Married? Then I realized Kate and mine hands were still locked together. Kate's gaze swung to me, but it was more out of apology than shock. I stayed quiet. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I wasn't going to make it any worse by saying anything more.

"It is wonderful to hear." She smiled sadly, "We never begrudged you one ounce of happiness, Seamus and I." her face fell. "You do know that, don't you? After everything that happened we wished nothing more for you."

Kate nodded silently and I felt her hand grip at mine tightly. The women continued to wear the sad smile upon her lips, but she stepped forward after a moment and put a hand on Kate's shoulder. "You're in my prayers, Dear. Especially over the next few days, I will be thinking of you." She said the words in a farewell and moved passed the two of us to continue in the opposite way up the sidewalk. Beside me, Kate was shaking.

I turned in front of her and placed a hand each on her shoulders. "Who was that?" I both asked and attempted soothed.

"Mrs. Sullivan." She said evenly, despite the evidence that said otherwise, "The Sullivan's own the grocery down the block."

"She seemed..."

"Apologetic? Yes, well I suppose she should be." She took a breath. "Her son is the one that killed my husband."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Tom

She didn't say anything more to me after that. We finished our walk in silence and once the house was in sight again she released my hand without a word and went inside and upstairs. When I entered just moments after her I was greeted with raised eyebrows from Mrs. Roark.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We saw Mrs. Sullivan on the street." I replied, hoping that was enough of an answer. Sir Edgecomb came out of the sitting room at my words.

"That would do it." He replied.

"Was she rude?" Mrs. Roark asked.

I shook my head. "Perfectly nice."

"Tom and I will go to talk to her," Sir Edgecomb volunteered and took a step towards the stairs, but Mrs. Roark cut a look to him, completely aghast.

"You will do no such thing! We have rules in this house young man and one of the most important is being proper. No young men in a young girls rooms! Now leave the girl be and get into the kitchen and put yourselves to good use." She threw a towel at the knight who surprised me by taking it in stride, I couldn't imagine anyone at Downton reacting the same way. Though to be fair, I couldn't see Mrs. Hughes throwing towels at any of them either. I followed the two of them into the kitchen and found myself scrubbing potatoes and handing them off to Sir Edgecomb, who was cutting them expertly and throwing them into a nearby bowl.

"Call me Alec," he said out of nowhere. "If we're going to be slaves together, I think it's completely acceptable for you to call me by my Christian name." he took another potato from me and put it on the wooden cutting board that looked well used.

The last forty-eight hours had been a complete whirlwind. A week ago I surely didn't see myself in Dublin, let alone in the house Kate had grown up in, scrubbing potatoes at the sink. Seeing my mother and father earlier had been just as awkward as one could imagine. I was greeted with surprise, hugs and kisses on the cheek from my mother. Both were instantly interested in why I was there, where their granddaughter was and why in the world I had shown up at the house with Mrs. Roark of all people beside me. I found explaining the circumstances even more uncomfortable and when I was done, both had looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

"But you barely know this girl." My mother had said with worry.

"I wouldn't say 'barely'". Was my reply.

"A murder trial, a Lady in disguise…sounds like an intriguing novel." My father had said. "Why didn't you bring the girl with you?"

"She wasn't able to come today." I told him, "But I will bring her around if you like."

"Do you plan to marry her?" my mother had then asked.

I didn't have answer to that question so I simply said the truth, the truth that I wasn't ashamed to hide. "I do love her." I knew Mrs. Roark had heard that even if she didn't look up her place near the hearth.

"And what of dear little Sybbie?"

"Well I love her too, Ma."

"That's not what I meant, Thomas Patrick and you know it." She scolded, completely going past my attempt at light humor, "How does she play into all of this? What of the Crawley's? They can't be pleased to know about this."

"Why wouldn't they?" she wasn't completely wrong in her thinking, but I knew I had at least three of them on my side with this. Matthew, Mary and of course Edith wouldn't fight me on it. I thought about that as I finished the potatoes and dried my hands. Alec was still chopping away at the pile I had created for him and so I leaned against the counter for a moment and feigned watching. I did love Kate, I knew I did. My actions in the last two days all the more proved that fact. The revelations over that same amount of time had only solidified my feelings for her. The way she had described her husband had stirred both affection and understanding within me. She described him as fair, good hearted, loving and honestly it was hard not to think of Sybil as I listened. I remembered clearly the support she had given me over my interests, though she didn't always agree, she was understanding of it. When we had married and moved to Dublin and I found myself actively participating in the cause, she had not only let me, she had supported me.

Then I had started to go the meetings.

It had been nothing at first, just an interest, a want to be around others like myself who believed in a change. I found far more than I bargained for. I should have stopped going, I should have never agreed to participate in their attention grabbing acts, but I wasn't smart enough to listen to reason then, even from myself. The knowledge that I had disappointed her still stung and had since taken away any urge I had to participate in such activities. Now my eyes had been opened to a completely different side of the story. Kate had said she'd met her husband in April of 1920. Where had I been then? She was falling in love with an Englishman, I was probably working against him. And bloody hell, I was probably working against Alec too. Now I was in a peaceful Irish kitchen watching him cut potatoes.

I stepped forward, closer to him. "When did it happen?" I asked.

The question was clearly out of nowhere, but he knew what I was referring to. "November 22nd."

"1920?"

He nodded, lifting the cutting board and scraping the cubed potatoes into a nearby bowl. I did some quick thinking. That date…then it hit me. "That was the day after…"

"Croke Park, The Cairo gang, yes." He carried the bowl to Mrs. Roark who turned it upside down into a pot of boiling water. "He had nothing to do with either though. Though Sullivan seemed to believe otherwise." He sobered, turning back to me, "Those were bad days."

"That was his reason for doing it? Because of what happened that day?"

"That's what he told Kate."

"What?"

"The boy was always hot headed." Mrs. Roark volunteered "But when he came back from the war it was even worse. Even as a child he had a temper. Twenty years ago the children played freely in the streets and Katie was always out there with them. She'd fancied him since she was four years old and when he left for France she was there to say good-bye."

"She'll not want him to know that." Alec quietly and weakly spoke up.

Mrs. Roark shot him a look. "Oh hang it, I'm tired of the secrecy, besides the boy is in love with her."

Alec offered no further argument.

"She wrote him nearly every week that he was gone. For nearly three years she waited for him to come back and when he did she was there, but the man that greeted her was not the same one she had seen off all those years before." She shook her head. "He was colder, darker and she had very little to do with him after that. Their various meetings after that always caused her great distress." She looked back at Alec, "He killed poor David out of jealously and you and I both know it. No matter what he said after the fact, it was a jealous heart that drove him to it."

Alec, lips pursed, eyes off in space, nodded.

I stood there silent for a long moment, long enough for the potatoes to cook down to be mash-able. When Mrs. Roark took them to the sink to drain them I found my voice once more.

"When did he speak to Kate about all of this? When did he tell her why he had done it?"

"He showed up at their flat the night after." Alec spoke up. "I was there, but she answered the door. I didn't hear the conversation, but that was what she had told me later. He did it because David deserved it after what had happened." He swallowed back. "He disappeared after that. I couldn't say what brought him to their door in the first place though."

"Guilt." Said Mrs. Roark, masher in hand as she attacked the potatoes. "The boy will burn in the fires of hell for what he did. You know it, I know it and he knows it."

Hearing an Irish woman say that about an Irishman was a shock to my ears, especially considering the crime. It was sad for me to think that most women probably applauded the man for what he had done. "You liked David?" I asked her.

She stopped what she was doing to look over at me. "Of course I did. He was a good man. Very good. I'd be some woman indeed if I judged a man for anything else but his character. He loved our Katie, loved her dearly. Irish, English, nobility, ordinary…none of that mattered to him. He made her happy, honored her wishes and her heritage. He married her in the Church and didn't give it a second thought."

"You married an English girl, Tom. I can't see why the idea shocks you." Alec said.

I realized I probably didn't look nearly as understanding as I probably should have. Sybil had done the same for me, hadn't she? It seemed her and David were cut from the same cloth.

"How long were they married before…"

"Five months." He replied.

"My God."

"Not nearly enough time." Mrs. Roark spoke sadly. "Not nearly enough. Not one anniversary, one Christmas to celebrate, not even a babe to keep her heart after he was gone."

Nearly everyone who had attempted to comfort me after Sybil's death had used Sybbie as their main tool. _"You have a beautiful baby to remind you of her." "A part of her will always be with you now."_ I was too distraught in the beginning to realize how right they were, but in the time since then that small person had become the very reason I had risen in the morning and the reminder of all of the promises I had made to her mother. I would be truly lost without her.

My heart sank with renewed sorrow for Kate.

* * *

She didn't come down from her room for dinner. Mrs. Roark went up to her with a tray, but came back down with it almost immediately. So the three of us ate dinner without her. Alec and I carried most of the conversation and I found myself liking him more the further we talked. I gathered he knew about my own rebellious activities, probably something he had found out when making certain I could come to Dublin with him, but he didn't criticize me for it. In fact he steered the topic more towards what I had done since then.

"My family has nearly always lived in London. I can't imagine running an estate. I can barely run my house, that's what my mother is there for." He laughed.

He stayed for about an hour after the meal was finished, but went back to his hotel around eight. Mrs. Roark went up to bed soon after and I went to my own room. Kate still hadn't surfaced and I couldn't help but worry about her even as I got ready for bed and settled under the sheets with a book. I had read three chapters of it when I heard the knock on my door. I knew it was her before I even opened the door. She was dressed for sleep, her hair tied back and falling down her back, and a blue robe tied loosely over her night clothes.

"Do you still want to listen?" she asked as if picking up from where our conversation had ended hours ago.

To answer her, I opened my door wider. God help me if Mrs. Roark found out, but Kate didn't seem to be bothered by the silent threat. She came in and turned to watch me shut the door. "I haven't seen her in years. Before it even happened it had been awhile."

She was attempting to explain herself, but I shook my head and told her there was no need. "I don't blame you."

"You don't?"

"No." I stood in front of her.

"It wasn't her fault. She was always so kind to me, the whole family was. I don't blame them in the least for what happened. I know they've since disowned him which has to be painful…"

"He did it to himself. Don't shoulder the blame for that."

She nodded. "Sometimes I think though…if we had left. If we hadn't stayed here after we were married…"

"Thinking of what might have been has never done anyone any good. Trust me." I told her. God knows I had thought about it enough myself in the last three years. All it did was upset me more.

She nodded again and sat down on the bed. "I was in love with him." She told me after a moment, bringing me down to sit next to her. "Maybe not _really_ in love, but you know those feelings you have when you're young? Where those type of feelings are new and you've never known anything more powerful. I realize now he probably didn't feel the same way for me. There was an attraction I suppose, but it was never love to him. He wanted to marry me, he told me as much, but all he wanted was a wife to cook and clean for him and have his children. He didn't want a partner, he wanted someone to keep his bed warm and a maid." She fiddled with the tie of her robe, looking straight ahead. "The war changed him. Made those feelings of his stronger and when I realized it I was heartbroken. I was hit with reality, but I'm glad it happened then and not later. You see, I've always wanted more than that. I wanted to make something of myself and God love my parents, they encouraged me. I was educated, I was smart and driven there was no reason why I shouldn't, but he treated me like I was a silly child for thinking so. David didn't. From the very beginning he encouraged me. I wouldn't be what I am today if it wasn't for him."

She took a deep breath. "I saw him about a week before it all happened. I stopped at the bakery for a loaf of bread and met him inside of it. He didn't know I had married I don't think and was being rather nasty to me. Telling me his offer for marriage was always open and that he would make sure to put me in my proper place. Then David came upon us. We hadn't come in together, he was on duty and must have seen us from across the street, but he stepped right between Mickey and me and warned him off. Mickey got cocky with him and called him a few choice words, most of them referring to him being English before David took him by the neck and said "I'm not telling you to leave because I'm English, I'm telling you to leave because you're harassing my wife." The look on his face…Lord, Tom he was white as a sheet. And so angry. He managed to call me a whole list of names before David threw him out of the shop."

This Mickey was sounding more and more like a fellow I would like to throw around myself.

"I should have known then he would do something terrible to get back at us."

I put an arm around her and pulled her close to me. She felt smaller, more fragile and sunk into my embrace easily. "David was coming home from work when it happened." She said suddenly after a long moment of silence, her voice was grave. "Only a block away from our flat. I heard the shots, but it was only after I heard someone scream that I felt pulled to it. It was after midnight and he had been gone all day because…"

"I know. They told me down stairs."

She nodded before continuing. "I had been waiting up for him. I ran downstairs and out onto the street. I just knew something bad had happened." Her voice was quivering and I held her tighter, feeling myself get sick with the anticipation of what she was about to say. "When I found him Mickey was already gone, but there was a crowd and someone calling for the police…there was blood everywhere, his shirt was soaked…his face was so pale…"she was fully shaking then and pressed a hand to her lips, her eyes threatening to burst.

"You don't have to say anymore." I told her with comfort.

But she continued. "He died right there. On a cold street and I sat right next to him begging him not to leave me…"

_The screams. God her screams. The pain, the agony. I looked to Matthew, I needed someone to help her because I couldn't. My heart was pounding within my chest, I couldn't breathe properly, just the same as her._

_Then she froze._

" _Oh God, no!"_

_Then she started to seize._

" _No, no, no!" I was screaming now, in my head, aloud I didn't know all I knew was that no one was listening._

_Mary was in front of me then, trying to bring her back, trying so hard._

" _Help her, help her!" I demand to anyone who would hear. Someone please, listen, someone make it stop! "Please don't leave me," I say to her, "Help her…HELP HER!" I get down in front of her, holding her wherever I can to let her know I'm there. "Breathe, Love, breathe." But she can't hear me. All around people are yelling, screaming, but all I can see is her and the life I loved so much fading away from me. "Listen it's me, Breath my darling please breathe."_

" _She can't breathe!" Mary is screaming next to me, behind me Cora is already crying like she's gone. No, she's not, she's not gone, please don't let her be gone. And then I watch her pale, I can see her spirit leaving, her life force vanishing before my eyes… she is gone. She's left me._

" _Please love," I continue to plead, "Please wake up. Please don't leave, don't leave. Wake up…"_

Kate's hand came up to brush away a tear that had been rolling down my cheek. I hadn't realized until that moment that I had been crying. Her dark eyes were locked on to mine and for a moment I felt as if I'd stopped breathing. All of the bad memories in my head had vanished and though her own face was streaked with tears of her own, I knew the same had happened within her. Cautiously I cradled her neck within my hand and dipped my head in for a kiss.

At the touch of my lips that instant shock of electricity I could find nowhere else shot throughout me. If anything could make those terrible memories go away it was her scent and God help me her taste as well. I couldn't get enough of either. I couldn't properly describe either one of them. The combination of both was a stirring to me as a sweet memory. A good memory to replace the bad. A memory of warmth and light, a memory I seemed to have forgotten until that moment. I deepened the kiss demanding more of that feeling.

She made a sound, a sigh that fueled the intensity and moved her arms to drape around my neck. From there her fingers found their way into my hair. I couldn't help but follow her lead and reached around her to yank away the ribbon that held her dark tresses back. I let them lose and immediately let my fingers run through the waves. In a moment where my lips parted from hers I said to her in a breath, "I love your hair."

She chuckled. "I've thought about cutting it. It's not at all stylish."

"Don't you dare," I managed before capturing her lips once more, the urgency and sweet frustration nearly taking me over. As I deepened the kiss I realized how easy it would be to lay her down on that bed, shed our clothes and make passionate love to her. Lord help me I wanted to and I could practically taste her craving for my touch. But could I? Could I do that to someone who was going through so much right now? Whose housekeeper, who was more like a mother to her, was just down the hall? No, I couldn't. I would one day soon, I knew I would, but it couldn't be now.

I put a stop to it then, breaking the embrace, painfully pulling away from her. She looked at me, practically bewildered by the sudden end.

"I'm tired." I lied.

"Tired?" she almost laughed "Are you certain?"

"I am afraid so." I took a breath trying to extinguish the desire roaring inside of me.

She stared at me a moment before accepting the weak excuse. "All right." She rose, intent on leaving and leaned over to give me a final peck, but I pulled her back down onto the bed.

"I didn't say you were leaving, I just said I was tired." And with that I pulled back the covers and settled underneath them. She stared at me again with another laugh pause before realizing what I meant, then I had to watch, rather painfully, as she shed her robe and threw it over the end of the bed. The lacy night dress she wore underneath was decent enough, but it still showed far more of her than a simple dress ever had. I bit my tongue until she had climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself. I then put an arm around her and let her fall against my chest and a comfortable silence fell over the room. I began to relax with her beside me, stroking her hair and bare arm.

"I am so glad you're here." She said softly to me. "I don't know where I'd be if you weren't."

"Probably in your own bed." I teased.

She sniggered at that. "Yes, probably." She then turned up to look at me. "I love you."

"That is the first time you've said that to me." I smiled down at her, my chest swelling in warmth.

"That's the first time I've said that to any one in a long time, but I do. I love you, Tom."

We kissed then, a deep, long and binding kiss before she laid down once more and settled against me. She was still there when I awoke the next morning and upon realizing it was early, I pulled her closer to me, her soft body a comfort against mine and fell back asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

_Kate_

I stirred in the early morning. My eyes opened against dim sunlight streaming through the gap of curtains in the opened window and I could feel the cool air brush against the parts of my body that weren't under the blanket. I turned to cuddle up to my bed partner, but his spot, though still warm, was empty. I was not ready to get up though. I moved over to the area, surrounding myself by his leftover heat and lingering scent on the pillow. Comforted by the combination I closed my eyes once more. It seemed only a few seconds had passed when I was woken again, this time by a kiss to my cheek. I grumbled and turned my face into the sheets.

"You'll be in some kind of trouble if you don't wake up soon." Tom's voice hovered above me.

I shook my head.

I could feel him lean down. "I'll send Mrs. Roark up here myself."

"You wouldn't." I finally said, hiding my smile.

"Wouldn't I? I'll tell her you came to my room all by yourself. That I was powerless to stop you."

I turned away from the sheet and gave him a glare. "That's not playing fair."

He smirked. "Let's talk playing fair then. I am certain each night you've come into my room you have worn more revealing night clothes than the night before."

"Not purposely," I lied, "It's what I pull out of drawer."

He mocked me with a half laugh and then came down lower to gently push me over onto my back and push the blankets aside revealing the lilac colored silk slip I had put on the night before. "Explain that."

I laughed and stuck to my story. "It was in the drawer." It was of course in the drawer, but he didn't need to know that I had dug through a small mountain of modest cotton nightgowns to get to it.

"I think you're lying." He countered.

I smiled my most flirtatious smile. "I'm not."

He came close to me, close enough for our cheeks to touch and said in a dark whisper "Liar" before he burrowed his lips into my neck making me laugh softly, before pressing his lips to mine to silence me all together. He had recently shaved, the softness of his cheeks and the heavenly musky smell of aftershave gave it away. The kiss, the moment, the dim light of the room and his scent brought me to a brilliant moment of contentment. Last night was the second night in a row I had come to his room, unlike the first night though, I didn't come to talk or to cry, I came to curl up beside him in bed. He had already been asleep when I came into the room, but woke just enough to lay an arm over me when I had settled myself beneath the covers, snug beside him. I slept more soundly, more comfortably with him near me than I could recall in recent memory. He was a shield against my nightmares and had been nothing but. He had been a complete gentleman even if I was willingly tempting him to do the opposite. It gave me a slight comfort to know he desired me so. He had made no secret about it and I couldn't deny how good it felt to feel beautiful in someone's eyes again. I loved the way he kissed me. It was so passionate and at times so tortured. He kissed me as if no other woman in the world could compare. Secretly I longed for him to allow himself to cross the invisible boundaries he had put between the two of us. Those moments at the height of our embraces were so torturous I wanted to scream when he pulled himself away.

Then of course, since I was thinking of it, he pulled away from me. I closed my eyes, my chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, he was going to kill me. I was sure of it.

"Back to your own room. You're going to be the death of me." He said as he sat up on the bed, voicing my own thoughts.

I pushed myself up on my elbows. "I'm going to be the death of you?" I asked, the sarcasm practically dripping from the end of the sentence.

He gave me a sideways grin in reply. "I am happy to know the feeling is mutual."

I rolled my eyes at him while pushing myself up and out of the bed. Then, nearly as my feet hit the floor, I realized what day it was. Almost like a brick wall the realization hit me. Today was it. Today my husband's murderer would face a court for his actions. And I had to be there. Tom rose from the bed and lit a lamp near the window. He seemed to sense the change in my disposition and came over to me.

"It will be all right." He whispered.

"I am afraid to look at him."

"Then don't. Keep your eyes on me or Alec."

I shook my head. "I doubt it will be that easy."

He sat down on the bed then and put an arm around me. "You're not the one on trial. He is. All you need to do is get up on that stand and tell the judge and jury what happened that day. If it starts to become too much just try to put yourself back here and pretend you're telling it to me again. Just me and no one else."

"They'll ask me questions."

"That's their job."

I wished it were yesterday. Yesterday had been easy and carefree. I had woken up in this bed and spent the day with Tom. We had walked around Sutton, seen some of the sights and came home and had a wonderful dinner. My life made sense yesterday. It didn't seem too much to want another day like that?

Mrs. Roark was none the wiser to my new sleeping arrangement. She set a plate of breakfast in front of me as she had done since I was a babe and fussed over me when I merely picked at the plate. I dressed in a daze after managing down a few small bites of food and got into the car Alec had hired. The trial was being held in Dublin Castle, a near poetic choice since David had spent so much time there during his service here. Normally a trial would be held in the Four Courts, but the year before an explosion had crippled the landmark building. The driver of our car got slightly lost on the way to Dublin Castle and his detour took us by the skeletal remains of the Four Courts. Tom sat next to me in the back seat and there was no mistaking the wince of ache that came across his face at the sight.

Dublin did not look like it had a few years ago. I had been prepared for that. A war for independence followed closely by a civil war made no exceptions for causalities, people or otherwise. Tom apparently hadn't foreseen that. The evidence of the wars were all around us and for a moment I forgot about my own worries and focused on his. It was only Alec in the car with us and so I took Tom's hand in my own and gave it a squeeze.

"This is not the Ireland I wanted." His voice came low and disconsolate.

I gathered he hadn't come deep into the city the other day when visiting his family. He must have gone around on another road for this was clearly the first time he had laid eyes on it in a long while.

Alec was also watching out his window. "There's unrest still. You can feel it. Rather like France and Germany after the war. People are still scared to move out of turn. They are afraid it's not completely over yet."

"It isn't though, is it?" Tom argued.

Alec shook his head, agreeing. "Far from it, Old Chap."

We arrived at Dublin Castle a few minutes later. Though it was barely after nine in the morning, there was already a crowd of people milling about the area. The driver took us through the partitions as close as he could to the center before stopping the car. Alec didn't wait and opened the door on his own, holding a hand up to help me down. He looked around him, taking in the scene with a keen eye as Tom got out of the car.

"The press isn't here." He observed.

"Were we expecting them?" Tom inquired.

"Didn't you used to work in journalism? You tell me."

He was right. My own journalistic skills would be itching to have an ear and eye in on a situation like this. It was strange that no one was around, but that didn't mean they wouldn't be later. I spied a familiar face from the corner of my eye and looked towards it. I didn't recognize him, but he seemed to know who I was.

"Lady Wyatt, good morning. I'm George Davies," His British accent was clipped and strong and he gave my hand a firm shake before turning to my companions, "Sir Alec and…"he stopped at Tom.

"This is Tom Branson." I quickly supplied.

"Pleasure." The man shook Tom's hand before turning back to me, "Lady Wyatt, we'd like to have a word with you upstairs before the hearing if that would be alright?"

"We?" I asked, slightly skeptical.

"The other barristers and myself." He replied with a wave of his hand, "And of course his Grace."

"Who?"

Behind me, Alec stepped forward and said into my ear, "David's brother." He said the words as if I should have known and really, I should have. I felt a momentary bout of ignorance before what little strength I had managed to gather that morning fell down around me. His brother? His brother who was the Duke now. A mighty and powerful Duke.

"He wants to see me, Mr. Davies?" I inquired of the man.

"Yes, my lady." He gave me a half smile, "You act as if it's a strange request."

Considering what the Duke's own attorney had said to me three years ago in a hospital corridor, with my husband's death fresh and his blood dried to my hands, that the family wanted nothing to do with me, yes, it was rather strange. Still though, I knew I couldn't refuse, even if I was a bit nervous at the prospect. I looked to Tom who, bless him, couldn't do much for me. And Alec, well it wouldn't be fair to ask him to come along with me and leave Tom behind, would it? I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath before looking back to Mr. Davies, hopefully with an aura of something that resembled confidence around me and told him, "All right."

The four of us walked to the entrance of the building and parted just inside of it, Tom and Alec going towards the court room, Mr. Davies and I going up the stairs to one of the offices. I practiced holding my head high and keeping my spine straight as I followed him. I wasn't sure what to expect of my brother-in-law. Desperately I tried to remember what David had said of him.

_He made my life miserable as a child, which is what big brothers are designed for. I rather like him now that I can swing my own fists and lock his head between my arms._

We stepped onto the second floor and passed by two doors before Mr. Davies stopped at the third and opened it. Inside three faces greeted my arrival, each male and each stood when they saw me. It wasn't hard to pick out the Duke. No, not hard at all. His appearance shook me to my core and back out again. He was nearly the spitting image of David. Perhaps his face was longer and he was just slightly taller, but there was no doubt they were related. Shocking enough, he had a kind smile on top of his soft expression and came towards me in welcome.

"Kate? Or shall I call you Kathleen?"

I mentally put a stop to my inner shaking. "Kate, Kate is fine."

"Kate then." And he took my hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "It distresses me greatly that this is the first time I have met you. Under perfect circumstances my brother would be at your side, but of course that isn't possible." He gave a brush of his hand to signal Mr. Davies, who moved away like a doting subject and then led me away from the door. "Tell me then, Kate. How are you?"

He asked the question with such caring concern it caught me off guard. Was this really the person whose father had wanted nothing to do with me? I'm sure I stared at him longer than was necessary before I answered, "Today isn't the best day, Your Grace."

"Stop with that. I am George to you, your husband's brother and therefore your brother." He answered kindly, "As for the day, I am with you. I have truly seen better. I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances as well. Tell me why we haven't? It's my understanding that you've been keeping a rather low profile in London."

"How did-"

"There are times when my name has its advantages." He boasted, looking so much like David it hurt. "It was my father that passed on that bit of information to me though, before his demise that is. Our previous attorney told him you preferred to remain incognito after the…incident."

"Previous?"

"Mr. Travers, yes he retired, oh I would say about a year ago. He said he met with you and that you said you were fine on your own. Of course Father thought it was ridiculous, but Travers said you were adamant."

"I never said that."

"I'm sorry?"

Quickly and thoroughly I explained my "meeting" with Mr. Travers after David's death. It was more than apparent he had not told them what had truly taken place. The brief explanation left my brother in law with a clenched jaw. He didn't question me or deny the fact, however.

"Well, that explains that." He finally said. I looked on warily. I wasn't sure how to respond. "I sincerely apologize for that, Kate." He replied after a moment, "I can assure you what Travers said was not what my father felt. He, I and even my wife Eleanor were very much looking forward to meeting you."

"Your Grace," another from the group spoke up from where Mr. Davies sat, "We should be getting on with it."

George looked back, "Yes, of course." He turned back to me. "We shall discuss this later."

I nodded. It wasn't a request, it was a firm statement.

* * *

A half hour later, after discussing the plan of action at length I made my way back down the stairs with my brother in law and into the large room where the trial would be held. I spied Tom and Alec in a set of chairs about halfway back from the barrister's desks.

"Those are you friends?" he asked when I had acknowledged them.

"Yes." I answered.

We walked over to them, both looking up in surprise when we approached. I quickly offered introductions, hoping I wasn't making either Tom or the Duke uncomfortable. I failed. Tom appeared fine from the outside, even giving a customary bow at the appropriate moment, but I could feel his discomfort as if it were my own.

It was hard to measure George's opinion. I had only just met him and he seemed very well rehearsed in the emotionless aristocrat act. Alec, ever the diplomat, stepped into the awkward air between the two and attempted iron out the obvious wrinkles when a collected silence fell over the area around us. I pulled my gaze away and let it move towards the source of the silence.

It was him.

Two guards were on either side of him, leading him to the chair designated to be his. He looked older, there was gray at his temples though he wasn't much over thirty and the bags under his eyes were heavy and deep. There was hardly a similarity between the man I saw now and the boy from my childhood. His hands, I noticed, were cuffed and he moved slowly, almost as if his legs were shackled as well, though they weren't.

_Tom_

She tensed next to me as she watched the prisoner, who I could only assume to be Michael Sullivan, be led into the court room. Instinct told me to grab her up and hold her tight, but considering present company, I didn't think that would be the best idea. From the corner of my eye I caught Alec's gaze, sharp and aimed towards Mr. Sullivan as well. It followed him from his trek across the room and into his chair, never once wavering. An intake of breath came from Kate and I watched as she shut her eyes against the sight for a moment. Her long eyelashes fanned against her cheeks and I could sense her desire to be anywhere but where she was at that moment.

Around us the others in the room began to move towards their chairs, but waited another few moments for the judge and jury to enter the room and the solicitors to their places before sitting down. Kate sat down and I immediately took the seat next to her, putting her between myself and the Duke. Her hand fell away from her lap and dangled between us. Without thinking I took it in my own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. A whisper of a smile on her lips towards my direction let me know that I had done the right thing.

For the first hour, there was talking, a lot of talking. Details I hadn't heard before that moment were discussed. The prosecution spoke of David, Lord Wyatt in glowing terms. He had been twenty-nine years old at the time of his death, recently married of course, the second son of the former Duke of Anbury, the brother of the current. He had attended Eton College, became part of the Royal Army in 1915. His military history was quite remarkable and he received many decorations for his service.

Kate sat strong and still next to me, her face void of any emotion while all of this was said. Her hand stayed within mine, hidden from view and I made no moves to change that. It was only when the Defense stepped up that she flinched. Michael Sullivan's history was laid out much the same way Lord Wyatt's had been. He was the son of a grocer, served England during the war, active in his church and community, but that was when the solicitor changed their course. "Mr. Sullivan was a changed man when he returned from the trenches of France." He said. "The horrors of war never left his mind." And "His mental state began to collapse."

"We are not here to deny the event took place." He continued, "No, we sadly acknowledge that Lord Wyatt was taken from this world too soon, but it was not Mr. Sullivan that pulled that trigger. Tensions were high in Dublin that day. The shootings at Croke Park and the massacre of several British agents upset many. Any Irishman could have seen poor Lord Wyatt and saw to take their anger out on him. We are here to prove that it wasn't Michael Sullivan. Mr. Sullivan had seen enough killing for one lifetime, there was no way he would want to add to that."

_Kate_

I wanted to scream! _Liar Liar Liar!_ He did it! How dare he sit there and let that man say otherwise to a courtroom full of people. I hated him. I want to rush over the chairs that separated us and slap him, scream at him and make him yell the truth for the whole world to hear.

_I went back to that cold November early morning. The one where the rain was falling hard and fast outside, where the frigid gusts of winds blew right through even the thickest and most expensive of coats. I sat in the front room of our flat, my clothes wrinkled and damp, my hands raw and red from where Alec had scrubbed away David's blood. He had brought me home from the hospital right after the Duke's attorney had left us in the corridor and immediately took me into the kitchen, running the hot water from the tap and taking a strong bristled brush to my hands. He had cried hard tears while doing it, pushing down harder than he should have along with it, but I was numb to whatever pain resulted from it._

" _We have to get you out of here." He told me weakly when he was finished, patting a clean towel against the tender skin._

_The only response I could muster was a nod._

_He brushed a fist across his eyes, ridding himself of the tears, "You aren't safe here. I'll…I can send you to my mother. She's in London. I can have you on the next boat over."_

_I didn't bother to argue, I simply nodded at his suggestion and allowed him to further plan my escape. I watched him scurry about the flat, making notes and going in and out of the bedroom, bringing suitcases and trunks, filling them with random objects that grabbed his attention, however the only vision in my mind was my husband's pale and lifeless body beneath the street lights glow. My whole world was gone, stolen away by a coward with a gun. I would never hear his voice again, I would never feel his touch or be maddened by his odd sense of humor._

_I was alone. My parents first and now my husband…_

_The knock on the door startled me. It was soft and I doubted Alec had heard it from where he was in the bedroom, but it still took a long moment for me to get up and go to it. When I saw that it was Mickey on the other side I was both shocked and…fearful._

" _What are you doing here?" I found my voice._

_He was silent. His head hung low, the dark hair was long and seemed to have gone without a cut for some time. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes were puffy from lack of sleep._

" _I came to see you." He finally spoke._

" _Have you come to torture me then?"_

_His eyes rose to meet mine, dark and chaotic, "I saved you."_

" _Saved me? What are you talking about?"_

" _You shouldn't have married him. What good could come of that? You weren't meant to be his, you were supposed to be mine." He paused, licking his dry lips. "I asked you to be mine and you said you would be. Instead you bonded yourself to a devil for life. I saved you though. You didn't see your mistake, Kate, but I did."_

_I stared at him, the words, clouded and harsh, cut through the numb daze I had been lingering in for nearly twelve hours._

" _You always needed me to look after you, clean up your mistakes." He turned to me. "Do you remember old Mr. Mullin's broken window? Your mother had forbidden you to play football. Said it wasn't ladylike, but that didn't stop you from going outside once she had left the house and kick around the ball with the rest of us." I watched him smile fondly at the memory and my stomach turned. "You weren't much more than nine years old, but you kicked that thing from the street and clear across the gate and into Mr. Mullen's dining room window. I saved your skin by taking the blame for it. Just like I'm doing now. I saved you from living your life with a devil."_

" _No…" I replied slowly. My heart clenched and shook, his words preluding to a scenario I didn't want to believe._

" _I didn't go out looking for him. It was completely by chance that we passed in the street." He kept going, confirming my fear, "I called him out, told him what I thought of him and before he could say anything I shot him. He still managed to throw a curse or two my way before I ran off, but nothing I haven't heard before."_

_I stared at him, speechless, shocked, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles were white. I could feel my heart. My tongue, paralyzed inside of my mouth, could scarcely form the words. Yet I forced its movement, I had to say the words, even if they were more than obvious at this point. "You killed him?"_

_Mickey nearly snorted a crazed choking sort of laughter. "I saved you. I doubt I'll see any gratitude for it either." He turned and came closer to me, brush a hand against my cheek. "You're welcome." The touch burned like fire against my skin, but I still couldn't move, no matter how much it burned or how much it turned my stomach. He closed his confession with a smile and then turned and walked back down the hall and towards the stairs. Leaving the dread to hang over me, dark and heavy, his words still echoing in my ears._


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

_Kate_

I didn't end up taking the stand that first day, a fact for which I half grateful and half annoyed. I wasn't looking forward to doing so, but at the same time I was tired of the anticipation. I would have much rather gotten it out of the way, but the presentation of other evidence took longer than anyone had anticipated and the judge seemed eager to end the day after it was over. We were dismissed shortly before three o'clock and George was quick to ask me to accompany him to a late tea. I looked at Tom before I answered. He had kept a comforting lock on my hand throughout the day and now that the day was over with I wanted nothing more than to go home and be near him. His silent response seemed to say very much the same and it was with a heavy heart that I pulled my gaze away from his and accepted George's offer.

Alec and Tom left together and I found myself being handed into a car with my newfound brother-in-law. There was a definite air of nobility around the man. His driver was silent and kept his eyes forward and when we arrived at the restaurant the staff fell into dutiful positions as he passed. I was both amazed and slightly uncomfortable. I was referred to as "My Lady" and "Lady Wyatt" as if I were as well known as the Duke himself. It was the most I had ever been called that since my marriage and I can't say it felt right at all.

Seated at a table, our orders taken and finally left in some sort of peace, George folded his hands and set them on the expensive linen table cloth. "Now," he spoke, "Tell me more about Travers. He really said that we wanted nothing to do with you?"

"Yes." I answered and retold the story of our meeting to him again. "To be honest," I said after, "I was in no state to argue."

"Of course you weren't." he sympathized. "You were grief stricken and in shock no doubt. He was instructed to bring you back. I cannot even begin to contemplate what made him do otherwise."

I hesitated. "Perhaps he thought that I had…other intentions when marrying your brother."

"The thought did cross my mind." He admitted. "However, David was never one to do things properly or the kind to flaunt his position. He should have known that. "

"I didn't even know who he was until the night before we were married." I told him, reliving the memory.

A brush of humor crossed his lips. "So he told me in one of his letters." A waiter appeared and he paused, letting him set the tea cups on the table. When the waiter disappeared he continued. "To be quite honest, Kate, his marriage to you didn't shock us as much as you might think. As I said he was never really followed the rules of Society. He was a free spirit and didn't let his mind cloud with the ideas of classes and such."

I nodded, remembering and realizing how right he was about that. "For what it is worth," he continued, "You have my utmost apologies for what Travers did to you. I shouldn't have ignored that nagging feeling that plagued me at the time that said otherwise. Father was most upset about it. He held back from doing anything for fear of scaring you off further. His death was unexpected to say the least. He was only fifty-four years old. He must have assumed there would plenty of time for comforts to be found and you to come around." He cleared his throat, "And I believe, that for a time, he held onto the thought that there might be a child to look forward to as well."

My eyes quickly moved away from him and I felt the weight of guilt descend upon me. Children. Of course. It had been my fault there hadn't been one. He had wanted them, quite badly in fact, but I had wanted to wait. For what, I wasn't sure, but the idea of becoming a mother so soon after marriage made me tense. In the first few months after his death I had hated myself for it. I thought a baby would have helped fill the void he had left, but after a time I realized how difficult my life would have been if there had been a pregnancy and then a baby. It was selfish to think, but I knew for certain that I wouldn't be where I was now, relatively content, if there had been a child to think of. The thought was renewing some grief within me and I looked back at my brother-in-law, eager to change the subject.

"We thought it was strange the press wasn't there today." I spoke up referring to Alec, Tom and myself.

He took the bait, a smirk stretching across his face. "Yes, well I might have had a bit to do with that."

"I'm grateful." I told him truthfully.

"I wasn't about to let my brother's death become some sort of media bee hive. I realize of course I can't keep it out of the papers completely, but at least this way we won't have to deal with the blood sucking reporters…present company excluded."

I smiled. "The less painful this is, the better."

"Yes, well now you have family to go through it with you and of course, you can be completely at ease knowing that you'll be taken care of from now on."

"Pardon me?"

"Well between his army pension and the inheritance from Father, David had a very sizeable fortune. It's been waiting for you for quite some time."

"Oh." I nodded absently.

"You won't have to worry about working—"

"I like to work." I interrupted.

"I'm sorry?" he questioned with an air of awkwardness.

"I like to work," I repeated, puntuacting the words, "I do. I really enjoy it and I've been told by serveral people that I'm rather good at it."

"Oh well, that's neither here nor there." He quickly dismissed, "The money is there and it will help you, especially when you decide to marry again."

"Marry? George, I don't—"a waiter returned then, setting more plates and refilling undisturbed cups between us, completely interrupting my response. Even after he left, I couldn't find a proper moment to bring the subject back up. Instead I held in my disapproval through the rest of tea and even when we parted and he put me in a car for home. I seethed in the car. My annoyance simmering to a fierce boil causing me to brush off the driver when he opened the door for me once we reached the house and walk into the house in a huff, slamming the door behind me. I stomped through the front hall, into the sitting room, unbuttoned my coat in a haste and throwing the hat off my head and onto the sofa before collapsing on to it myself.

Tom was sitting in the chair near the window, paper suspended in his hands, watching me. "Bad day?" he asked after a moment, a weak attempt at lighting the mood.

I stared at him, but didn't answer.

He nodded to himself, folding the paper closed and setting it on a nearby table before rising and coming over to me. I welcomed the feel of his body as he sat next to me and set an arm around my shoulders.

"This day has been too much on its own," I spoke up without being prompted, " I don't need Duke brother-in-laws coming out of the wood work and making it worse. Trying to change my life, who I am." I leaned into him, his arm tightened around me. "I like who I am. I like my life. I don't need money or marriage to make worth living."

"What are you talking about?" he asked

I shook my head, not wanting to give away the details. "I'm rambling."

"Hey," he lifted my chin up to him. "I like your rambling."

"You don't." I almost laughed.

"I do." He replied sincerely, "Now tell me what happened."

I exhaled, averting my eyes for a moment before looking back at him. "He," I referred to George, "Was talking about me giving up my job and eventually getting married."

"To who?" his response was sudden and direct and it almost made me smile.

"No one in particular. He just indicated with the money that came to me after David's death and his father's, that I could be the quite the marriage prize for someone." I shook my head. "I know he's being kind in his own way. Thinking of my best interests, but I'm happy where I am. Despite everything that happened that drove me to this point, I've made the best of it. I've taken myself this far. I don't want a marriage to anyone to undo it all."

"So you don't want to marry again, at all?" he asked

My eyes cut back to him fast. There was a kind of…hurt in his voice.

"I didn't say that," I told him honestly, soothingly. "I just meant if I did, the man I chose would have to be accepting of the way my life is and that I can't give it up."

His eyes, blue and full were on me. Words, unspoken, but plainly heard, hung between us and I couldn't but smile at him. I knew he was thinking what I was.

"You're thinking about marriage with me?" he asked, bringing a voice to the thoughts.

"I might be." I replied, playfully, my eyes never leaving his. He remained poker faced, though I could see the slightest glimmer of amusement in those blue pools of his.

"Do you really think this is the time or the place for that?"

"I need the distraction." I answered honestly, "I don't want to think about David or Mickey. I want to think about something that makes me happy. And that's You," I took his hand within my own, lacing our fingers tightly together, "You, make me happy. Every moment that I'm with you all of that bad seems to go away." I took a deep breath. "I believe you were right when you said that we were brought together for a reason. Somewhere, someone said Send him to her. She needs him. And they were right. There is no way I'd be as composed as I am now, if you weren't here."

He brought up my hand, still clutched within his own and kissed it, sending that familiar warmth spilling throughout me. "Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing I've ever done." I chuckled as he cracked a smile. "I have to admit I've become quite used to sharing a bed with you. You don't kick or snore at all." Again I laughed and he broke our hands apart only to pull me closer to him on the sofa. His face was now inches from my own and I closed my eyes, savoring the moment when he ran a finger across my cheek, "Something tells me there might be other perks to having you next to me at night as well."

"I don't know what you're referring to." I whispered, almost biting my lip to keep from smiling.

"I think you do." He murmured in reply. The words poured so seductively from his lips it sent shivers up my spine.

"Are you going to kiss me now?" I asked, matching his own seductiveness with my own.

"Well," he considered, "We are alone, I'm not quite sure I could not stop with just a kiss."

"But we're on the sofa." I added.

"Another plus to a marriage. If this were our house it wouldn't really matter would it?"

"No." I answered, "Though with that in mind, it wouldn't matter in the kitchen, the dining room, the garden—"

"The garden? Now I see a whole new side of you!", and he gathered me up his arms, crushing a passionate kiss to my lips. Any smart come back that came to mind was instantly washed away at that moment. His lips teased over mine, from the bottom to the top. Then again. And then once more persuading mine to part beneath their clever dance. I barely noticed as we shifted on the sofa, me falling onto the back cushions, him hovering over me, giving him a better angle to the deepen the kiss, keeping his rhythm steady and sure.

Hands were everywhere, making slow, curious paths on the other. I let mine glide over his chest and down his arms, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. After what happened that morning I was honestly expecting him to pull away from me at any moment, following the same procedure, but he kept going long after I expected him to stop. His breath and mine, were ragged and uneven through our kisses. His hands lingered in spots that forced sighs from my lips and then moved on just as quickly. I found myself practically clawing at him for more, to take it further, just one step more. Then he stopped. Stopped and pulled away from me. I felt my heart sink as I watched him stand, let down once more, but then his hand came down on mine and pulled me up to my feet. The quick movement made my head, already addled by the activities on the soda, spin, but he quickly brought an arm around my waist to settle me hard against him. "I love you." He said, his voice hoarse and consumed.

"I love you." I replied.

He kissed me again in response. A rough and frenzied kiss that sent me up on my tiptoes. "Do you know why I stop? Why I get close and then pull away?"

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on him. My chest still heaving in feverish breaths.

"Because," his forehead pressed itself to mine, "When I have you and I will, it will be when no one can come around to interrupt it. It will be perfect." He breathed, "It will be on a bed," he added and I managed a smile. "It will be when all of this is over and I have you all to myself, mind and body."

The intensity of his words, our closeness there in that sitting room, and the way my body still burned for his touch brought slight tears to my eyes. I let him hold me close until we both finally began to calm. I realized in that moment that the love we felt for one another wasn't fleeting in the least. It was as strong and powerful as anything I'd ever known. I wondered how, before he'd come into my life, how I could think that David was my one and only chance at ever feeling this way for any person. The realization that neither of us could ever go back to way things were before that moment surely hit him then as hard as it hit me. I couldn't give up what had built between us and I knew for certain he couldn't either.

And there would be no family on either side to convince us otherwise.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

_Tom_

I was accustomed to early mornings. There hadn't been a point in my life in that last ten or so odd years where there had been room for sleeping late and the habit developed. Usually there were things to be done, things to keep me occupied in the early morning hours before everyone else would rise, but that wasn't the case here. Kate slept soundly next to me, comfortably curled up in the covers, facing away from me towards the door. She had come into the room last night, just like the others before that and gotten into bed with me without a word. It was such a strange thing that we were doing. The only other woman I had ever slept in a bed with was Sybil, a thought that tore at my chest as it brought memories to the surface I would have rather let lie. There had been a few others before Sybil. None that left any lasting memories and none that had simply just slept in my bed. When Sybil had first come to Dublin, my mother hadn't let us even sit in a room alone together until we were properly married. I remember the frustration of it, even when all I had on my mind was conversation, there was a chaperone in one form or the other in the room. Our wedding night was the first moment that we were actually alone together in months and every night that followed that one all the way until…that night…had been one I had prized.

Kate shifted beside me then, rolling over and pressing her face against my shoulder. I turned my head in, taking in the lovely scent of her hair and was instantly hit with that stirring of desire she always seemed to trigger inside of me. I sighed audibly feeling that familiar internal struggle start anew. She had made her want of it more than clear to me, especially last night, but I still couldn't give in. Not yet. Honestly right now, it was simply because of the fact that Mrs. Roark scared the devil out of me. For now, the sleeping thing would have to do. It was enough. The nights I had spent alone since Sybil's death were still all too fresh in my mind. Kate presence hadn't exactly filled the gap Sybil had left, but rather it seemed to have created a whole new place in my heart. I realized last night that living Dublin without her wasn't going to be an option, but I knew the only way to go about that properly would be to marry her.

Alec had said yesterday that he didn't see the jury taking long to reach a verdict once the trial was over and I had to agree. Though no real arguments or witnesses had been presented, the feel in the room gave away the guilty verdict as well as any judge could. Could I ask her after? Would she accept? I doubted myself. Even after what had been said the night before there was still a fear inside of me that she would say no. She would be giving up a part of herself no matter how open minded I was when it came to her working. After all it wouldn't be just me she would be adding into her life, but my daughter as well. She liked Sybbie and I knew the feeling was returned, but being a friend and being a step mother were two different things entirely. And then what if she wanted children of her own? I had decided long ago Sybbie was the only and last for me. I hadn't planned then on ever marrying again, but in the small chance that I did, I could never go through that again. The risk was too great.

I laid an arm over Kate then, eager to snap away the pain that was threatening to come back at me. She shifted and curled up breath the embrace and a moment later her eyes opened. She was so fresh and beautiful in the early morning light, dashing away all the bad memories that had suddenly loomed over me. I leaned in and kissed her forehead. She sighed and wrapped her arms around my neck pulling me closer. For a long moment neither of us spoke. We lingered in the comfortable silence, watching the room get slightly brighter as the sun rose outside. When we both realized what time it was, she rose from the bed and reached for her robe at the end of the bed. I stood as well, catching her before she reached the door and wrapping my arms around her waist. Most of her hair had fallen from the clutches of the loose dark braid that fell down her back and she brushed away the strays before smiling up at me.

"What?"

I kissed her. Nothing fancy, nothing to overwhelming, just one to carry her through the day before we could alone together again. When we part she smiled coyly at me and whispered an "I love you." Before going to the door, giving me one last look and opening it. I turned, expecting to hear the door shut behind me, when an almost scream and then a bang on the floor in the hall sent me running to the door in a haste. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, but Mrs. Roark, wild eyed standing next to a tipped over laundry basket was not a consideration. Kate was standing by the wall, guilt, shame and horrible knowledge of being caught written all over her face. She was biting her lip when our eyes met.

"What is the meaning of this?" the enraged housekeeper demanded.

Kate looked at me again before speaking up. "It really isn't what you're thinking."

"Isn't it now?" she mocked in reply.

"I mean it." Kate affirmed. "There's no need to call in the priest to pray for our eternal souls. Nothing happened."

"I don't believe you." She said to Kate, though her eyes were on me.

I stepped forward. "Ma'am, she is telling the truth."

"Why don't you believe me? I have never lied to you before, why would I start now?"

Mrs. Roark's furious glare passed from me to Kate like a threatening thunder cloud and then back to me again. I suddenly aged backwards to my 15 year old self as her glare rested on me. I had the oddest feeling she was going to tell my mother on me.

"Mrs. Roark!" Kate pulled the woman's attention away. "Will you listen!"

"The rules of this house are clear."

"Yes, they are." Kate replied, "But it is my house. I am not a child. I am a grown woman of twenty-six years and a widow at that. If I want to sleep in a man's bed it is no one's business but my own!" I nearly applauded for her. "And yes, that was all I did was sleep. Sleep. I left my room at quarter til midnight, walked down the hall, into Tom's room and got into his bed and fell right to sleep."

"Young Lady,," Mrs. Roark rose back up, armed and ready, "You listen to me and you listen well. This family, no matter what's left of it, has its standards. The rules are there for a reason and I am your elder. I have raised you from a babe and deserve nothing less than your full respect. Do we understand one another?"

Whatever courage Kate had mustered up was effortlessly dashed away by Mrs. Roark's words. Bloody hell, it even affected me. I watched on as Kate slowly nodded her head and murmured a "Yes."

Mrs. Roark looked satisfied. "I am glad we understand one another. There will be no more sinful behavior under this roof. Is that clear? Sleeping together in a bed doing nothing at all is for the married."

_Oh Jesus…_

I had to bite my tongue.

The words were spoken in a harsh triumph, but they sure as hell didn't come across that way to me…and to Kate either. Her head shot up and there was no mistaking the laugh she was holding back. Across from us, the housekeeper, realizing what she had just said suddenly reddened. For a moment no one spoke, no one moved and then…then Kate couldn't hold it back any longer. The entire altercation melted away from memory as she began to crack up with laughter. I couldn't help myself and followed her lead. Mrs. Roark was now the color of a tomato, her mouth opened, but no words were coming out. Quickly she gathered up the contents of laundry basket and stuffed them back in before picking it up and fleeing down the hall, with as much normalcy as she could collect.

Our laughter continued long after she was out of sight.

"She is never going to look me in the eye again!" Kate breathed, wiping her eyes. "Oh Heaven…" and she laughed more.

"She is going to tell my mother." I told her. "I know she is."

"Are you scared?" she teased. When I gave her a look she laughed more before wrapping her arms around my middle and kissing me. "Nearly thirty-one years old and scared of his mother." She said pulling away after. "As it should be."

* * *

Unfortunately the amusement of the morning didn't last. Before long we were back inside the makeshift court room at Dublin Castle. Kate was to take the stand today. A number of people were actually A medical examiner was the first. We listened intently as he spoke, describing in disturbing detail David's body after they had reached the scene. I looked over at Kate as he described the blood in large pools on the street, how the man's white shirt had been completely soaked through, and the large gaping bullet holes in his chest. She looked down, her eyes closed and took in the words with heavy breaths. I wished I had been able to grab the seat next to her, but His Grace had slipped into it at the last moment, leaving me and Alec to partner up.

A quick glance over at Mickey Sullivan told me the man was hardly paying attention to what was being said at all. He seemed far more focused on the shackles on his feet than anything else. There was no emotion on his face as the doctor gave his testimony.

After the doctor had left the stand we were released for a fifteen minute recess. One of the prosecutors came over to Kate and the Duke and lead them off into a corner and into a serious conversation. I watched on for a moment before Alec pulled my attention away.

"Smoke?" he asked. His nerves were visibly frayed, and even though I declined the cigarette I followed him outside and onto the green while he took one for himself. "I never saw him after." He said after a moment. "The last time I saw him was when he was leaving for home that night. After he left, I went back to the house I was staying in and went right to bed. They sent a boy to tell me. He shook me out of sleep and said simply "Lord Wyatt is dead." And left right after." He took a drag from the cigarette, pausing, blinking back the pain. "He always knew there was a risk and made me swear on my life I would take care of her if he something did happen. That was my only thought once I heard was just to find her and it took me hours."

He recounted a tale to me then that left me physically sick. He told of how it had taken hours to finally locate Kate at one of the smaller hospitals in the city, protestant run. David had died on the streets though Kate had been with him. She was allowed into the ambulance that took away his body, but was shut out of the room when they arrived. Alec had found her, hours after the fact, sitting in the cold dark hospital, on the floor, covered in her husband's blood. She had been forgotten about and left alone in her shock and grief.

"The bastard deserves to hang." He added after a moment, "Not only for what he did to David, but for what he did to her as well. You never saw anyone more grief stricken." He looked up at me then, "Well, I think you might have an idea as to how she felt."

I nodded, numb and silent. There was rustle of movement back towards the building, signaling that the fifteen minutes were drawing to a close. He took one last drag from the cigarette and threw it on the ground, extinguishing it under his shoe and then put a hand to my shoulder. "You're a good man, Tom." He told me before we started back inside.

* * *

_Kate_

As my hand slipped away from the Bible, my oath to tell the truth to the best of my ability said and heard by the entire court room, I felt my nerves attack me from within. I wanted to throw up. All eyes were on me even Mickey's, though I was trying my best to take Mr…. advice and avoid all eye contact with him. Instead, with a deep breath I shifted my gaze to Tom and then Alec, the heart of my support in these last few days. Alec returned the look with a small smile. Tom with a warm comforting gaze of his own.

"Lady Wyatt," the barrister began, "Will you take us through that last day of your husband's life, from the very beginning if you will."

"Yes." My voice was quiet and I felt the need to reaffirm the answer in a louder tone. "Yes." I said again for all to hear. That last day…

_That morning started out as any other. David had arrived home just after eleven the night before and I had expected him to sleep late. I woke around 8 and dressed and readied myself before making a small breakfast and cup of tea. I had fully intended to go to Mass at 10 o'clock and settled myself in our small cozy sitting room with the tea and a book I had pulled off the shelf to pass the time until it was time to leave. Then the loud, panicked knock on the door broke the peaceful silence of the flat._

" _David, Kate, open up!" It was Alec and the tone of his voice was enough to send me faster to the front door and unhook the chain. Almost as soon as I had he burst through the door, his hair and uniform askew, his labored breathing showing the rush he in which he had arrived._

_I was instantly concerned. "What is it?"_

" _Where's David?"_

" _Asleep still…"but I was cut off by the sight of David, clearly jolted from his sleep, coming into the room. He was still clad in his pajamas and rubbing a hand against his eye. "The sun is barely up, man. This had better be good."_

" _Something has…happened."_

" _What?" David was more alert now. When Alec hesitated to answer he pressed him further, "Alec, what?"_

" _They killed them." He then said._

_Both David and I stared at him._

" _Who did what to whom?" David then asked. When Alec cut a look to me David waved a hand in front of him. "She's my wife and she's your friend no matter what anyone else might say. Now tell me before I put my hands around your neck for doing this to me before I've had my coffee."_

" _The Cairo's. Thirteen dead" he gulped, "All this morning, all gunned down like animals."_

_My breath caught in my throat._

_David stared at him. "Are you sure?"_

" _It's all over the bloody place!" Alec snapped, "Of course I'm sure!"_

_David suddenly turned and started back for the bedroom. I followed him, leaving Alec to his own thoughts in the sitting room. My husband went immediately to the wardrobe, pulling out his uniform and throwing it on the bed. I stared at him as he began to change._

" _Where are you going?"_

" _They'll want me back at headquarters." He pulled his pants on, then a clean shirt from the bureau._

" _Thirteen people…" I said in disbelief._

" _Thirteen government agents, Kate." He stopped. "I don't have to tell you who's behind this do I?"_

_I shook my head. Of course he didn't. I felt like crying. I didn't know any of the dead, didn't care much for them either, but somehow just the thought of their executions stung. Without missing a beat David was in front of me, cupping my face in his warm hands. I looked up into his brown eyes, his handsome features. He hadn't shaved yet, but I ran my own hand against his rough jaw and took a breath._

" _What I was saying last night."_

_I nodded. Remembering the conversation. He had talked of selling his commission and going back to England. As much as it had pained me then I had agreed, now at this moment, it seemed like I had made the best choice._

" _We need to leave. It isn't safe. I know this is home for you—"_

_I shook my head. "You're my home now. Wherever you go, I will follow." I sank into his arms, "It doesn't matter where, as long as you're with me I'll be home."_

_He kissed the top of my head, hugging me tighter to him. "God help me, I love you."_

" _I love you._

_He reluctantly broke away and finished dressing. I watched him with a heavy heart and followed him back out to the sitting room when he was finished, seeing Alec on the sofa near the window nervously tapping his fingers together. David found his hat on the table and turned back to me as he opened the door. "I don't want you leaving the house today. Do you understand?"_

" _David—"_

" _Don't argue with me. Stay here, keep the doors and windows locked."_

" _No one is going to come after me."_

" _More than likely you're right, but I'm not taking any chances."_

" _Listen to him, Kate." Alec said from behind me._

_David took my hand into his, "This will be one of the few times I'll ever put my foot down, Darling, but please listen. Please. You're an Irish girl married to an English Lord, you're not safe. To some of these people you're a traitor and just as much an enemy as I am. There is a war coming and I won't have you being one of the first victims."_

_Finally, I nodded. He kissed me deeply, ignoring the presence of his friend behind us. "I love you." And then a moment later he was gone. Following his instructor I locked the door securely behind him, but then went to the window to watch for the two of them to walk by, which they did, quickly, politely making their way through the Sunday crowd on the streets. I watched them fade into the distance through my eyelet curtains. My heart heavy, my stomach knotted._

"You didn't see him the rest of the day?" Mr. Davies asked.

"No," I answered. "I did as he said, I didn't leave the flat. Kept the doors closed and locked that was until our neighbor Mrs. Thornton came to door, around 4 o'clock. She told me about what happened at the match in Croke Park…" As I trailed off, Mr. Davies turned to the jury, giving a quick account, for the record to which I was referring, even though it was common knowledge.

"Take us to later that night, my Lady." He then said.

_I had barely left my seat by the window at all in the last fourteen hours. I sat staring out at the streets. Watching the crowd of people pass below. Soldiers and civilians alike fluttered about like confused birds. It was eerie and downright frightening. The news I had heard from Mrs. Thornton about the near massacre in Croke Park had shocked me and swept me up into the frenzy and fear that was plaguing all of Dublin. As the sun went down and the skies became darker, the crowd on the streets dissipated. People sought refuge in their homes and I wanted my husband._

_I had no idea where he was, what he was doing or who he was with, but going all day without a word from him was beginning to wear on me. When the clock on the mantle chimed 11 it shook away some of the cobwebs that had begun to form in and around me. I rose almost involuntarily from the chair and went to the kitchen and put some water on for tea. While I waited I went to the bedroom and pulled a sweater from the closet and turned on the radiator. It rattled to life, spitting out heat through the vents just as the kettle on the stove began to whistle. I went back to the kitchen, pulled the kettle off the burner and reached for a cup from the shelf._

_Pop, pop, pop._

_It came from outside. My heart stopped._

_Gunshots._

_Without realizing it, I dropped the cup, letting it fall and shatter on the floor and rushed to the window. Outside, illuminated by the corner street light I saw two figures, one with a gun held up, the other on the ground. I staggered back, almost as if the bullets had struck me and knew…oh I knew…_

_I was out the front door and down the stairs in a blur. The street was dark when I arrived, quiet except for the figures in the distance though I can see there were people emerging from the other buildings.. I could hear the cries of agony, see the steam from their breaths in the cold air and began to run towards them. I screamed, I can't remember what, but it caught the gunman's attention. He whirled around, his face covered in shadow and the gun fell from his hands. As I got closer, he broke into a run in the opposite direction. He was out of sight when I finally reached the lamp lit sidewalk, but I gave it no second thought as I realized my fears were confirmed. David lay on the ground, holes punctured in his chest and stomach. His hands shook and his eyes were wide, glazed over in pain. I fell to my knees beside him and screamed. Oh God the utter terror that rang from my throat…_

_"No, no please, no…"I looked for something, anything around us to stop the blood, to put pressure on the wounds, "Oh God…" sobs began to choke me and tears ran down my cheeks as fast and furious as the blood from his wounds._

_I was helpless. There was nothing to be done and the realization that this was the end, this was all I had hit me fast and hard. I prayed as I my hand found his pale cheek. He could see me, his eyes were on me and he struggled to form a sentence. It made me cry harder._

_"Please, don't…don't go, my love. Don't leave me."_

_His hand came up, the last of his strength to hold onto my own. "I love you…" he said, trailing off. His voice…it wasn't even his. It was dark and hoarse. The spirit was leaving his body._

_"I love you." I told him, sobbing so hard it hurt._

_His eyes never left mine. Even after the last of his soul departed his body, even when his hand fell away from my own, his eyes were on me._

_"No…." and the sobs came harder. I fell onto him, heedless of the blood, the wounds and buried my face into his neck, begging and pleading with him to come back to me._

_I think I might have fainted or something along those lines because when I woke up it seemed to be a good while later. There was a crowd of people around me, women and men crossing themselves, talking to one another in shock and there was the sound of an ambulance in the distance. David's body was now cold and icy under my touch, but it didn't stop me hugging myself to him again, kissing his lifeless lips and muttering declarations of love I can't clearly remember._

Mr. Davies handed me a handkerchief. I hadn't realized I was crying until he did, but I was grateful for the gesture and used it swiftly. My hands shook around the cloth and I looked out at the courtroom spotting several people in the audience and jury doing the same thing. Alec was bent in his chair, his head cradled in his hands, George looked absolutely stricken, but his Duke breeding wouldn't allow himself to show the emotion openly. Tom, Tom had sympathy and a trace of understanding written all over his face.

"Are you all right, Lady Wyatt?" the question came from the judge.

I looked over and took a deep breath. "Yes,"

Mr. Davies, looking sympathetic, spoke up. "Shall we continue then?"

"No!" the voice came from the accused's chair and instantly all eyes on the room were on Mickey. The men around him, his defenders, buzzed over him try to pull him back down in his seat, but he stood tall, his eyes shifted from the judge to me. "No. No more! I can't do it anymore. I did it. I shot him." He gulped. "I am guilty."


End file.
